


How It Should Be

by CiaraSky



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Actual Saint Scott McCall, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Human, Christmas, Drinking, Everybody wants Sterek, F/M, Graduation, M/M, Making Out, New Year's Eve, Partying, Sex, Spring Break, Stiles POV at New Year's Eve, smoking weed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 11:59:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1468762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CiaraSky/pseuds/CiaraSky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>University is the best time of your life because the best things can and sometimes do happen. </p><p>Or where Scott and Stiles want to spend Spring Break with alcohol, weed and making out with girls - YEAH Stiles we know, dudes for you - but suddenly Allison pops up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How It Should Be

Scott sits next to the girl he spent almost two years of high school with and he can feel Kira’s expectant eyes lingering on him, but he just can’t bring himself to look at her. He doesn’t want her to see the sad look in his eyes so he stares at his fingers.

“I…” he begins but fails and sighs.

“It’s okay,” Kira says and leans forward to kiss his cheek. She lays one of her hands on his and entwines their fingers.

“I’m trying to break up with you,” Scott says and his voice breaks as he realizes that this reminds him so much of him and Allison that it makes it hard to swallow.

“I know,” Kira says calmly and as Scott raises his head to look at her he sees that she’s smiling. “I know how I said back then when I moved here that I didn’t want a boyfriend, but I got you and that’s the best thing that happened to me in this town. I really love you, Scott.” She learns forwards and kisses him, softly, and he pinches his eyebrows in pain because this may be their last kiss. But it’s better this way. As Kira leans back, Scott holds the gaze. He arranges the words he wants to say inside his head, but just as he tries to speak up, Kira says: “I saw how you looked at Allison, still look at her, and it kinda hurts to know you still love her, but I knew from the beginning that I couldn’t replace her. She’s your first love.”

“It’s not about Allison,” Scott hastily says but realizes that it is, a bit. “Not essentially.” He stares into Kira’s eyes and it hits him like a ton of bricks that maybe it’s a lot about Allison. “Okay, maybe more than ‘not essentially’. But it’s not only that.” Scott sighs again and squeezes Kira’s hand. It never had been that ‘I want to be together with you until the end of times’ kind of love with Kira, it was completely different with her – still great, but different – and it makes it a bit easier to break up with her. “It’s about college too. You’re moving to New York and I’m staying in California and that just won’t work. I want you to be happy and I know that I can’t make you happy in that way and I don’t even know if I could handle such a long-distant relationship and I don’t want to be together with you if I only see you two times a year.” Scott lets his head fall down again, but Kira moves closer.

“I know,” she says again and how the hell can she be so understanding? Scott looks up and his breath hitches as he sees that Kira’s eyes are watering.

“Please don’t cry,” he begs and rises his hands to cup her cheeks. Kira lets it happen so he kisses her forehead.

“I won’t,” she whispers and sniffles. Scott leans back and takes Kira’s hand.

“I don’t want to lose you like Lydia lost Jackson, Kira.”

“I’m not moving to London, Scott,” she says and smiles and a single tear runs down her face. Scott kisses it away.

“New York’s far enough,” he mutters and it hurts to know that he probably will still lose her like Lydia lost Jackson.

“We’ve got facebook and Skype and whatsapp, Scott, it’s not like I’m moving to outer space,” Kira chuckles and it brings the tiniest smile to Scott’s face because yes, Kira’s right.

“Still far away,” Scott says and brushes his thumb over the back of Kira’s hand. “You can’t bring me pizza and coke after I eat all the wasabi, mistaking it for guacamole,” Scott says and Kira laughs, laughs until she holds her stomach.

“We could have pizza and coke via Skype,” she says finally when she catches her breath.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Scott blurts out and knows that this ruined the mood, but he had to say it.

“I’m gonna miss you too,” Kira responses.

“We’ll try to stay friends, right?”

“We’ll definitely try,” Kira says. They spend another ten minutes talking before Scott leaves, heartbroken but light-hearted.

*

University is a whole different talk than high school. It not only means living on your own, but having nobody near who does the grocery shopping or who hands you twenty bucks when you spend all your money and then remember that you have to buy a birthday present for your girlfriend. But it also means having nobody who tells you to tidy up your room or to eat healthy or to get up early or not to do drugs or to stay home when there’s another party at the frat house.

Stiles actually lives in the frat house whereas Scott shares a room with a guy named Bobby – a fat, lazy, WoW-playing idiot – in one of the resident halls.

“God, he leaves his pizza boxes laying around _everywhere_!” Scott complains one late afternoon after his last class. He sits in the living room of the frat house and Stiles changes the channel on the TV.

“How did he even get into university?” Stiles asks as he turns it off; there’s just crap airing right now. Scott flicks carelessly through one of his books for Social Work; he always knew he wanted to work with people and help them, so this was the perfect choice.

“Don’t ask me, man. I don’t know,” Scott replies and drops his book on the coffee table. “Anything going on anywhere tonight?”

“Nah,” Stiles says and grabs his Gatorade and takes a great sip. “Tomorrow, though. It’s Darren’s birthday and I heard there’ll be a chocolate fountain.”

Scott eyes widen.

“No way dude!” he says excitedly.

“Could be just a rumor, Scotty. Besides, don’t you have a test you need to study for?” Stiles gives Scott a stern look. His best friend reminds him most often that he needs to study, which is an easy thing for Stiles since it seems all the good grades fly to him without needing to learn.

“Don’t remind me. I hate Mr. Jackson’s class.” Scott makes a strangled noise and lets his head drop back against the sofa. Stiles chuckles.

“Can’t be so bad, Scott. Remember that this is what you decided on. You always wanna help people.” Scott opens his right eyes and peers over at Stiles, who again takes a sip from his bottle.

“Easy talking for you, dude,” he says and bites his lip. “You’re the one who gets nothing but A’s.”

“It was just the first semester. And Psychology is damn interesting!” he defends himself. Scott rolls his eyes. Being curious about everything that seems interesting enough is a trait of Stiles that Scott always admired. And Psychology really sounds fascinating from what Stiles tells him about his classes. “Want me to help you?” he asks eventually.

Scott sighs and grins.

“You’d do that?” he requests and a similar grin to his spreads across Stiles’ face.

“’Course!”

“Man, you’re the best, Stiles,” Scott states and reaches over to pull Stiles into a hug.

“Wanna order a pizza?” Stiles then asks.

“And leave the boxes laying around?” Scott adds and his eyes shine with delight.

“Totally!”

*

Scott passes his test in Mr. Jackson’s class, a lot due to Stiles’ help. And over the two next years, Stiles helps him out more than once. Scott still struggles to pass some of his classes (they are super difficult, alright?) while Stiles advances to be one of the top students of his major.

At the beginning of their fifth semester, Scott moves out of the room he shared with Bobby. Now he lives in a two room suite with Zach (Zacharias, actually, but he only likes to be called Zach) and it’s a lot cooler with his own bathroom and not having to use a community bathroom with ten other guys. Plus Zach himself is much cooler than Bobby, which isn’t so difficult. He’s out a lot with his girlfriend, who he only brings before warning Scott so he can spend the night with Stiles in some club, and besides that he’s a funny but quiet guy and he doesn’t leave all of his pizza boxes lying around.

And then in January, Scott turns 21.

It’s Saturday so of course he wants to sleep in. But he didn’t plan Stiles in.

Stiles somehow got hold of Zach’s number, don’t ask Scott how because Zach studies Business and he and Stiles never ran into each other on campus, and so Zach lets Stiles into their suite. He bursts into the bedroom, screaming “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DICKHEAD!” and begins to tackle Scott until his sides hurt from laughing.

“Stop, stop! MERCY, have mercy! Please, Stiles, GOD!” Scott pleads and finally, Stiles lets go off him only to shove the most immature birthday present into his face. A long balloon with two smaller, round ones at the base of it, all three of them red and filled with sprinkles and glitter. Scott squeezes his eyes shut and then looks at his best friend judgingly.

“You serious?”

“Ay, gonna celebrate this special day properly!” Stiles says and sets his backpack to the ground, pulls a bag out of it and hands it to Scott. “Got something to sweeten this day,” he beams and grins widely. Scott sits up straight and takes the bag from Stiles hand and peers into it. He glances at Stiles unbelievingly and pulls a big tub of B&J Cookie Dough out.

“Man, you know me best!” Scott chimes and smiles brightly. Stiles shrugs his shoulders and smirks.

“I’m not your best friend for nothing,” he remarks as he shoulders his backpack. “Uhm, I gotta run, work starts in 20 minutes, but I’ll see you later at the party, right?”

“Which party?” Scott calls after him but Stiles is already out of the door.

Scott grabs a spoon from the kitchen and lazily takes a few spoonful from the ice cream before he puts it in the freezer and heads back into his bed, hoping to get another few hour of sleep before it’s inevitable to get up because his hunger would kill him otherwise.

*

There actually is a party at the frat house but more because it’s Saturday and it’s the anniversary of the fraternity but Scott couldn’t care less because Stiles stays by his side and tells everyone they pass that his Scotty turned 21 today and so many people have a drink with him that by 1 a.m. Scott passes out on Stiles’ bed with a bucket standing next to the bed – just in case.

The next morning he wakes up, a dull ache throbs in his head and he isn’t sure where he is. Scott looks around the room and sees another person laying in the bed at the other side of the room. A bottle of water stands on the bedside table and he gratefully grabs it and gulps down half of the water. As he sets the bottle down again he remembers that this is Stiles’ bed and that there was a party yesterday and that he is 21. He’s 21. Finally he doesn’t have to ask Stiles to buy him drinks, finally he can do it himself. What a feeling.

There’s a groan from the other bed and the person in it shuffles around and Scott looks over. He has no idea who that guy is, but it totally isn’t Stiles. He probably sleeps in the bathtub or something.

Scott turns around and pulls the blanket over his head. It’s Sunday and certainly too early to get up. He almost fell asleep again when he feels his phone vibrating in his pocket – yes, he actually slept in all of his clothes and now he stinks of alcohol and sweat and it’s uncomfortable overall. Scott groans and fiddles his mobile out of the pocket of his jeans and looks at the display. He has five missed messages.

He opens the first one. It’s from Lydia.

 

**Happy 21 st Scott. Have a great party with Stiles! Miss you.**

 

Scott smiles. Lydia studies at the same university as Allison in the far south of California and he hasn’t seen her for about half a year and it’s amazing how she grew since high school. She studies Mathematics like she always wanted to and apparently does as good as Stiles does in Psychology. Scott opens the next one. It’s from Kira.

 

**I hope you have a great day. NY is boring without you. Happy bday :3**

 

Scott smiles sadly as he reads the message. Kira not once visited Beacon Hills since she moved to New York because she always works during the breaks and so they haven’t seen each other for almost two and a half years. They skyped one or two times, but it’s hard to grow close again when you broke up. Scott takes a look at the next message. It’s an unknown number.

 

**Yes, you are still the hottest girl. Happy birthday from your biggest fan. Isaac.**

Scott chuckles and remembers that Isaac told him he’d get a new number soon. Their friendship improved a lot again after Isaac and Allison broke up after three month of dating. Isaac isn’t at a university, he does an apprenticeship and lives with Deputy Parrish whose real name isn’t Parrish but Lahey and is Isaac’s big brother who was said to be fallen in combat but who was chosen to work on a top secret program for the Army (he still isn’t allowed to talk about it) but now he’s back and Isaac finally has some sort of family again and it fills Scott with happiness to know Isaac isn’t alone.

The next message is from Derek. He didn’t expect him to know his birthday nor send him a text for it. But it’s really short.

 

**Happy Birthday. Derek.**

Scott can’t help but chuckle again. Typical for Derek. Cora lives with him again, as far as he knows, and they don’t get along, but Derek said he needs a feeling of family and since almost all of them moved away from Beacon Hills it’s gotten pretty lonely. Scott feels rather bad that he isn’t home more often, but Derek used to get along, so he will do now.

Then there’s the last message. It’s from 11.55 p.m. yesterday.

 

**I only wish you the best. I hope you have a great time in Fresno. Happy 21 st Birthday, Scott.**

 

It’s from Allison. Scott stares at it. He hears so rarely from Allison that it hurts whenever he does. He’s dated a few girls since he moved here but only always for a few weeks because none of them could compare to Allison. And he can’t bring himself to text her more often or call her because he doesn’t know how she feels and he doesn’t want it to be awkward between them. They did get along in high school, but only because they really had to or otherwise their clique would have fallen apart. And all this “staying friends” isn’t as easy as it sounds, but he tries to hold the contact, at least occasionally.

Scott types a quick reply to all of the texts and folds the blanket back. It’s too hot in this room and the air is filled with the heavy scent of whiskey. He gets up and stumbles through the room and heads for the bathroom. He closes the door behind him, strips out of his clothes and pulls the curtain aside.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” Stiles screams and Scott screams in return and pulls the curtain back and hastily puts his boxer shorts back on.

“The hell, dude?” Stiles squeals. “Did you put your pants back on?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Scott stammers and Stiles pulls the curtain back again. Scott eyes his best friend. He lays in the bathtub with a blanket which is probably from downstairs and a pillow that has some serious questionable stains on it.

“Why did you sleep in the tub?” Scott asks curiously. Stiles fidgets around and moans in pain.

“All the sofas downstairs were occupied when I got tired. You were passed out on my bed and George slept in his, so I took the tub.” He shrugs and clambers out of the bathtub, fetching the blanket and the pillow. “Alright, you can shower now. I’ll take my bed.” Scott nods and Stiles turns around, tries to open the door only to run against it as it doesn’t swing open; of course he didn’t notice Scott locked it because he was still asleep back then. Finally he gets out and Scott locks the door again before he turns on the shower and scrubs himself clean.

It’s 2 p.m. when he and Stiles finally get something to eat. Scott found some noodles and a ready-made pasta sauce and now they’re heaving a completely unseasoned meal but it fills their stomachs and this is awesome.

Stiles just spears several noodles with his fork and swirls them in the sauce as he asks: “Excited for Spring Break?” He shoves the noodles into his mouth.

“Hell yeah!” Scott mumbles as he chews his noodles.

*

It’s the weekend before the third week of March and Scott and Stiles sit next to each other on the plane to Cancún. Stiles actually sleeps because it’s four in the morning but Scott can’t. They’ve got seven hours ahead of them and a boring movie is playing, he can see it on the display in front of the woman who sits next to him.

Scott thinks about the week that lays ahead of them. Half the plane is full of young people like him and Stiles and there are definitely more to come.

The first two years of university they spend Spring Break in Cabo San Lucas but last year the weather was so terrible that they had to stay inside most of the time because being wet the whole day is not as fun as it may sound. They hit the clubs in the night but that was it, and that’s not really what Spring Break is about. So now they’re heading to Cancún.

The flight stretches and seems more like twelve hours than eight, but they are amply rewarded by the weather. They leave the airport building and the sun shines down from a clear blue sky and it’s 80 degrees.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Stiles shouts and turn his face towards the sun, eyes closed. Scott follows suit, but just as long as a security guard points out that they need to leave this area. Stiles mutters curses under his breath but they pick up their luggage and get a taxi (which isn’t so easy because it seems like everyone needs a taxi).

The drive to the hotel is really short in comparison to the flight and they easily check into the hotel and get into their room. It’s small, they can barely get to their beds to say the truth, but there’s air conditioning which is also working – that’s really important –, no cockroaches in the bathroom as far as they can tell and just a little bit mold in the edges of the shower so they can’t really complain.

“Wanna check out the beach?” Stiles asks as soon as they threw their bags into the dresser and changed into bathing trunks and thin shirts.

“Oh God, yes please!” Scott replies and they grab the keys and head outside.

The heat outside has intensified, if that is even possible. It’s barely 2 p.m. and the streets are full of people.

“Maybe we should have kept to Lucas,” Stiles says as he wipes the sweat from his forehead. “It was far cooler there.”

“Don’t complain,” Scott snaps and nudges Stiles with his elbow. “Imagine all the naked girls we’ll see.” Scott wiggles his eyebrows at Stiles who just rolls his eyes.

“You know I don’t care about girls, Scott,” Stiles responds.

“Naked dudes that look like Derek, then,” Scott corrects himself only to be slapped across the stomach by his friend.

“You serious?” Stiles whines miserably. “I wanted to spend Spring Break without having to hear his name.”

“Don’t act like you didn’t want me to mention him,” Scott states as they pass a bar where there’re already several people drinking and loudly singing.

“We need beer,” Stiles says and looks longingly at the crowd inside the bar. Scott turns into the direction of the door, but Stiles pulls him back by his shirt. “Not there. We get some from a supermarket or something. I need to get to the beach.”

“Alright,” Scott agrees and they search for the nearest supermarket and quickly make a find. It’s not much bigger than their hotel room but it has a fridge with three sorts of beer inside and so they grab two bottles, pay and head for the beach.

Which is crowded. Apparently everyone felt the urge to escape college and university and soak up the sun.

“And this is just the beginning,” Scott notes as he looks around the beach. There’s enough free space but it’s still full. “Damn.”

“What?” Stiles asks as he turns around to look at Scott.

“We forgot towels.”

Stiles groans.

“Dumb. Dumb dumb dumb dumb dumb,” he repeats over and over as he scans the beach. “Maybe someone will share theirs with us?” Stiles suggest and shrugs.

“I don’t think so,” Scott replies and eyes Stiles.

“Heading back to the hotel?” he asks and looks back into the direction they came from.

“No,” Scott insists. “We’ll drink our beer, get into the water for God’s sake, see naked girls and then head back to the hotel to get a couple hours of sleep before heading out around 8 again.”

“Meh,” Stiles simply says and takes a sip from his beer.

“Naked guys for you, I get it, Stiles,” Scott remarks and takes a sip from his beer. They lean against railing of the boardwalk and watch the passing strangers. It’s apparent it’s Spring Break, there are young people everywhere and they don’t have to wait long to see a brunette girl storming into the water without a top.

“YEAH!” Scott screams and Stiles rolls his eyes at him in an amused way.

“You’re pathetic,” he chuckles as he empties his bottle.

“No, you are that you don’t enjoy boobs,” Scott replies and laughs.

“Sorry, I can’t help it I find dicks better than vaginas,” Stiles grins and looks after a passing guy with black hair and stubble. Scott grins. He’s happy Stiles’ came to terms with his sexuality in their senior year at high school and doesn’t run after Lydia anymore. He just wishes he would pull himself together already and ask Derek out for a date or something. It’s obvious Derek has a thing for Stiles but of course Stiles doesn’t believe him. And Scott is the only one yet trying to push the Stiles and Derek thing, so it’ll take a long time before anything happens.

Scott takes the last sip from his bottle and deposits it into a bin.

“Alright, wanna get wet?” he smirks and jerks his head at the water.

“Sure thing!” Stiles says and they run more than walk towards the water. They try to push each other into the water which result in both of them being sucked underwater and they emerge spluttering and gasping for air.

“God, this is awesome!” Stiles booms and smiles. “Spring Break happens too rarely!”

“Totally,” Scott agrees.

They swim a bit more and it’s really refreshing when they get out because now their shirts and shorts are drenched and cool them. But by the time they are back in the hotel, their clothes already dried.

They fall onto their beds and stare at the ceiling. There’s faint music coming from one of the hotel rooms below or above them, but it doesn’t matter anyway. They are silent for a few minutes, then Stiles speaks up.

“Man, some pot now would be rad.” He looks over at Scott on the other bed.

“Where do you think I’d get weed from?” he asks and gives Stiles a confused look.

“Don’t know,” Stiles states and stands up and heads over to the window, opening it and leaning out a bit. “Maybe we’ll meet someone who knows where to get some weed.”

“Weed?” an unfamiliar voice says and Stiles looks over to his right where a guy leans out of the next window just like him. Stiles must be looking shocked because the guy says “I could get you some.” He smiles at Stiles and he can’t help to smile back.

“That would be awesome.”

The other guy takes a drag from his cigarette and puffs the smoke out.

“Why don’t you come over?” he asks. Stiles looks confused over at Scott who eyes him curiously. Stiles mouths “Weed next door” to Scott who then nods and sits up. Stiles then leans outside and peers over at the guy.

“Alright, we’ll be over in a sec.” The guy nods and so Stiles retreats and closes the window.

“Pot’s on its way!” he says grinning and heads for he door, Scott following on his heels. They turn left and Stiles intends to knock on the door, but it’s pulled open just then.

Stiles stares at the guy who opened the door. It’s the one who passed them back when they were drinking their beer, the one Stiles looked after, the one with the perfect stubble.

“Hey,” he says and smiles and pulls the door open a bit more. “Come on in.”

So they do. They stand awkwardly around, not knowing what to do because this room is almost as small as theirs, only with an extra armchair that stands in one corner but which is laden with beer and clothes and weed.

“Hey, I’m Ian,” the guy who leaned out of the window says after he flicks his cigarette away.

“Dean,” the one who opened the door adds and then Stiles and Scott introduce themselves. Scott can see Stiles gulp out of the corner of his eye as he takes in Dean’s appearance and he can’t help but smirk.

“Sit,” Ian says and gestures at their beds before he sits down on one of them, resting against the headboard, cross-legged. Dean sits down on the other bed like Ian, but with his legs stretched out. Scott sits down at the end of the bed Ian is sitting on, knowing that Stiles really would like to sit next to Dean even if he would deny it if he ever asked him.

“So, where are you from?” Ian asks, looking from Scott to Stiles and back.

“Fresno,” Scott says and looks over at Ian. “You?”

“Seattle,” Ian says and grins. “I’m a Digital Arts Master, Dean’s a Photography Master.”

“I’m doing Social Work, Stiles does Psychology.”

“Oh, wow!” Dean says and perks his eyebrows impressed at Stiles. “Sounds difficult. Which semester?”

“Fifth,” Stiles says and tries a grin which Dean returns.

“Awesome. You must be really smart,” Dean continues to compliment Stiles. Scott smirks as he sees the blood creep into Stiles’ cheeks.

“Nah,” Stiles says but it’s obvious he doesn’t mean it.

“Alriiight,” Ian interferes and claps his hands together. “You guys want pot, right?” He looks expectantly at Scott, who then nods.

“We’ve come here every year since we started studying,” Ian continues. “I know a local dealer, that’s where we get our weed from, but for today you can smoke some of ours.”

Scott grins.

“You guys are a gift, thanks,” Scott rejoices.

“Weed’s a gift,” Ian replies and stands up and Scott nods heavily. The man walks over to their supply, takes papers, filters, a grinder, tobacco and the bag with weed and sets it down on the bed before he sits down in front of it. It doesn’t take him long to roll the joint and as soon as it’s ready he lights it and takes some drags from it before he passes it to Scott.

“So how old are you guys exactly?” Ian asks as he rests against the headboard again.

“21,” Scott says as he takes his third drag and passes the joint to Stiles.

“So young,” Dean chuckles and bites his lip.

“Who old are _you_ , then?” Stiles asks challenging and takes a demonstrative drag, looking at Dean.

“26,” he says and smirks, kneading his knuckles.

“That’s just five years,” Stiles says and takes the next puff. He tries to do smoke rings, but fails.

“Still five years,” Dean says and holds out his hand to take the spliff from Stiles.

“Still not much,” Stiles responds and let’s himself fall back onto the bed. “Man, this pot is really good,” he says and Scott sees how Stiles’ hands drop to his sides. He has this heavy feeling in his limbs too.

They pass the joint a second round and then a third before it’s consumed and Dean stubs it out in the ashtray. By then they are all laying down.

“Music?” Dead asks carelessly and it takes a few moments for someone to respond.

“Yeah,” Ian says and so Dean pulls his phone from his pocket and puts something on. Dubstep.

“Urgh, dude, dubstep’s out since 2012!” Stiles complains and rolls over, trying to snatch the mobile out of Dean’s hand, but he holds it high above his head so Stiles can’t reach it. But he didn’t plan on Stiles to make such an effort to get something different on. Stiles staggers forwards on all fours, tries to grab the phone from Dean’s still outstretched arm only to tumble and fall right onto Dean. Scott laughs out loud then and so does Ian and soon their sides are hurting. Scott looks over at Stiles and Dean to find out why they don’t join in and his eyes widen as he sees tongues swirling around.

“Eww, guys, really?” he exclaims but laughs. It doesn’t even bother Stiles and Dean. And somehow Scott can’t tear his eyes away from it. The resemblance between Dean and Derek is so striking that he can’t help but imagine Dean to be Derek and he isn’t sure how he feels about it. But Stiles fists Dean’s hair and Dean runs his hands down Stiles’ back and they are wiggling and then Stiles moans as Dean pulls his head back to mouth at Stiles’ throat and it sends a strange shiver down Scott’s spine.

He looks over at Ian and sees that he is mesmerized by what’s happening before his eyes too. Slowly, Ian looks over at him and grins.

“Wanna hit another spliff?” he asks and Scott nods. He needs more weed to comprehend what’s happening. Or forget it, he isn’t quite sure. So Ian prepares another joint and then passes it to Scott to light it. And just as Scott takes the first drag, Stiles moans again. Loudly. Scott coughs out the smoke and looks over at the mess of limbs and hands on the other bed. Dean’s hand slipped into the back of Stiles’ shorts and Scott pinches his eyebrows and quickly looks away. He did not see that. He certainly did not see that. He doesn’t even want to know where Dean’s finger might have been wandering. He takes another puff, and another, and then hands the joint to Ian.

“Wanna get into my room?” he asks and tries not to look over at Stiles and Dean again. Ian takes a drag and nods. He swings his legs down the side of the bed and stands up.

“Derek, fuuuuuuuuck,” Stiles moans and Scott looks over at him with his eyes wide in shock.

“Derek?” a startled Dean asks.

“Forget it,” Stiles slurs and darts forwards again, pulling their lips flush together. And Dean doesn’t seem to mind. Scott just hastily tries to leave the room.

*

“So you and Stiles, you’re best friends?” Ian asks from Stiles’ bed. Scott looks over at him and nods.

“Yeah, since… I don’t know… we were five, I guess. A pretty long time.”

“And apparently he’s gay,” Ian says and chuckles.

“Apparently,” Scott repeats and looks at the ceiling.

“Are you ok with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Scott asks confused and shoots a glance at Ian who shrugs his shoulders.

“I was afraid Dean’d want to make out with me when he first told me.” Scott grins.

“Stiles wanted to make out with me more than once, even before he finally accepted that he’s gay,” Scott states and looks back at the ceiling, fingers entwined behind his head.

“And who’s Derek?” Ian inquires and Scott can hear him snicker.

“Don’t even get me started on Derek and Stiles. I need to cage them up into a tiny room without clothes so they’d finally accept they wanna fuck each other’s brains out.”

“Wow, this sounds serious,” Ian says but still grins when Scott turns his head again.

“Stiles is oblivious of Derek’s attraction to him and I try to tell him, but I’ve kinda given up a long time ago because he doesn’t believe me.” Scott twists his mouth. “Wanna know why he called Dean Derek?”

“Because he looks like Derek?” Ian suggest and Scott nods, then closes his eyes and shakes his head slightly.

“Pathetic.”

“Let him have his fun. It’s Spring Break,” Ian states and he’s right. Stiles has every right that he wants to fuck guys who resemble Derek and Scott shouldn’t complain. At least Stiles doesn’t want to fuck him.

“So when do you think you can get us some pot?” Scott asks after a while.

“Tomorrow. ‘s that alright?” Ian fiddles with his fingers.

“Sure.”

*

They go out around 9, a bit later than they planned, together with Ian and Dean, share a spliff on the way down the boardwalk and get into a club around 12. Around seven they fall into their beds in the hotel and sleep ‘till four when Ian knocks on their door and presents a very sleepy Scott a bag with a reasonable amount of weed. The four of them get along really good so they spend the day together again – Dean and Stiles not making out, at least not until they hit another club and they vanish into a darker corner and Scott sees Dean’s hand slip into Stiles shorts again – and the day after that. It’s Tuesday and they already drank more alcohol than they remember, but it’s Spring Break, right? They definitely need a break from university. They head from one bar to another and go skinny dipping in the middle of the night and Scott makes out with a naked girl in the ocean he happened to bump into whereas Stiles practically jumps onto Dean and Scott wonders why Stiles doesn’t want to find another guy to make out with, but then he remembers that Dean looks a lot like Derek and that his fingers are currently inside a girl and that he should definitely not think about Stiles and who he’s making out with.

“Yo!” someone calls and Scott pulls his head back to look around. “Yo, Scotty!”

It’s Stiles and he waves at him. The girl tries to kiss Scott but misses his mouth and kisses his cheek instead. Her arms are rested around his neck and she pulls herself closer.

“What is it?” he calls back, squinting in the darkness.

He sees Stiles pointing into a direction and turns his head and then he hears it: The scream of partying people and the booming sound of the bass. He disentangles the girl’s arms from behind his neck (who still tries to kiss him) and shoves her back by her shoulders.

“Ey!” she calls out slurred and tries to dart forward again, but Scott holds her at arm’s length. She stumbles and if it wasn’t for Scott she would have fallen right underwater.

“We’ll get you out of the water,” he says and lays an arm around the small of her back and looks back at Stiles over his shoulder, seeing that he, Dean and Ian are following him. Fortunately they weren’t far in because right after Scott got the girl – whatever her name is – out of the water she stumbles onto all fours and pukes her guts out.

“Ew!” Ian says and body-swerves her. Stiles, however, doesn’t acknowledge her presence and already puts his clothes back on.

“We can’t leave her!” Scott protest and looks around at the three man, all of them occupied by getting their shorts on. As soon as Stiles put his shorts on the right way round, he positions himself next to Scott and shoots the vomiting girl a worried look before he looks over at Scott who’s then more than aware of the fact that he’s still naked.

“Keep an eye on her for a sec,” he says and turns around to get his shorts on. He sees that Ian and Dean are lingering a few steps away, looking from the girl over to the party.

“Check out the party if you want,” Scott says and Ian nods before the two of them turn around and head towards the party. Scott puts his tank top on and gets back to Stiles and the girl, who stopped vomiting badly by now and only coughs occasionally.

“We can’t leave her like this,” Stiles says and eyes his best friend. Scott twists his mouth and nods before he kneels down, anxious not to get in contact with her puke.

“Hey,” he tries and brushes some strands of her hair behind her ear. Her eyes are closed and she breathes heavily.

“Can you hear me?” Scott tries and after a few heartbeats, the girl nods slightly.

“Alright… can you tell me which hotel you’re staying at?”

The girl sniffles and slowly sinks back onto her legs.

“Ma… Marpez,” she mumbles and finally opens her eyes to look at Scott. She’d look cute if there wasn’t puke dripping down her chin, but that’s not a thing Scott worries about at the moment. He looks around at Stiles.

“Ever heard of it?” he asks, but Stiles shakes his head so Scott looks back to the girl.

“Where are your friends?”

The girl pinches her eyebrows and her eyes wander around the beach.

“I… I don’t know,” she stammers.

“Great,” Stiles whispers and longingly watches the party. “You know I could be having a good time with Dean by now, Scott, you know that, right?”

“Sorry I’m worried for the well-being of another human being, Stiles,” Scott says and tries to remain calm. “And it’s only Tuesday, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to go down on him, but, _please_ , help me with her now.”

It’s not like Stiles doesn’t want to help, Scott knows that, but he understands that this is Spring Break and they should do other things than helping a drunken girl but he can’t help it that he wants to know she’s safe in her hotel and not laying on the beach all night without clothes on.

“Okay, we’ll get you your clothes on, alright?” he asks her and she nods, raising her arms above her head even though she only wore a bikini and a skirt, judging by the clothes that lay nearby. Scott snaps his fingers at the clothes and Stiles hands them to Scott. It takes quite a long time to get the three pieces of clothing in the right places, but finally, the girl is decently dressed.

“How the hell are we supposed to get her to her hotel?” Stiles whispers as Scott supports the girl by laying his arm around her waist like earlier.

“Get a taxi. The driver should know where it is.” They almost reached the street which isn’t deserted, luckily. Stiles noisily draws in a breath.

“And then we’re gonna pay for the drive, or do you think she’s got money on her?” Stiles asks as he looks left and right for a taxi. Scott looks right at the girl and then over to Stiles.

“I’m gonna pay. It’s my fault you’re here with me so I won’t let you pay.”

“Fair enough,” Stiles agrees and catches a taxi for them.

The drive to her hotel – which turns out to be hostel – isn’t too long but the girl still makes dangerous gagging noises several times during the drive but her stomach seems to be empty, luckily. And the drive didn’t cost too much, too, but when the boys stand in front of the hostel after they guided the girl to her room, Scott takes a look at his phone and sees that it’s almost four in the morning.

“How long did it take us to get here?” he asks Stiles and looks up into the sky.

“40 minutes or something.”

“How long does it take us to get to our hotel from here?”

“About 10, I’d say.” Scott looks back over his shoulder at the windows of the hostel before returning his glance to his best friend.

“Are you still up for the party?” Scott asks and looks eagerly at Stiles, who looks miserable.

“No.”

“Thought so. You up for some pot then?” he asks instead and now, Stiles nods slightly, looking less miserable.

The only problem is that there’s no taxi in sight so now they really have to walk. Which takes almost an hour.

“Man, you better take me to a good party tomorrow or I’m gonna drink all your beer, Scott,” Stiles says on the way back to their hotel because honestly, this is enough drunkenness to deal with in one night.

But the pot makes up for it. After the second spliff, they doze off into a weed-thickened sleep and only wake up around seven the next day.

As Scott makes his way to the bathroom he finds a flyer which was shoved into their room through the gap between floor and door. He picks it up and his eyes begin to shine as he reads it.

“I think I might found the good party you asked for yesterday,” he chimes and waves the flyer at Stiles who looks up from his bed with heavily lidded eyes.

“Wha?” Stiles asks sleepily. “Ahhh,” he groans and fists his hair, slowly resting his head onto his pillow again. Scott walks towards his best friend’s bed, sitting down on the side of it, shoving the flyer into his face.

“Here, take a look.” Then he retreats and gets into the bathroom to take a shower. When he comes out again, he sees how Stiles tries to decipher what the flyer says which makes him chuckle lightly.

“Legendary Spring Break Party?” Stiles says and looks up at Scott with a quizzical look.

“Oh yeah,” Scott says, nodding his head, smirking. “Starts at 11 and there’ll be foam.” Stiles eyes grow big and a smile lifts the corner of his mouth.

“Foam?” he asks like he didn’t hear it right. Scott suddenly remembers the times he and Stiles had bubble baths when they were little and form the craziest hairstyles and mustaches on each other with the foam. “You thinking the same as I am?” Stiles asks, grinning widely.

“Yeah,” Scott answers and has to laugh. Childhood was a great time.

“I bet everyone will be there,” Stiles says and studies the flyer again. “We’re _so_ gonna rock that party.”

“But first we’re gonna grab something to eat,” Scott states just as his stomach growls loudly and he puts a hand over it. “Or I’m gonna starve.” Stiles laughs, but agrees.

They have a falafel each and then head to the beach to swim a few rounds. The beach is pretty filled again and there are Mexican looking men running around, handing everyone who stops by for a moment too long a flyer for the party later on. And that party seems to be the only topic everyone talks about. Obviously it’s a must if you spend Spring Break in Cancún.

But of course nobody goes to the party at 11 sharp. When the first heavy crowd starts moving around 12, Scott and Stiles follow them because they have no clue where the club is supposed to be.

It takes a few minutes for them before they get there and Scott didn’t suspect it, but there’s already a pretty long line in front of it. They get in line behind the people they followed and wait patiently to be let inside. Everyone seems to be in a good mood, even the bouncer. They pay, get a stamp each and head to the dance floor. The music is deafening, but a good mix of mainstream, electro, dance and r’n’b, so they get their groove on.

There are actually people who shoot them weird glances but neither Stiles nor Scott care. They have the time of their life like they planned to and nobody can take it from them. Stiles shows his weirdest dance moves and even gets hit on by a not-so-bad looking guy with whom Stiles then dances for the next few minutes until he gestures to Scott that they need a drink. They shimmy their way out from the dance floor – the guy that danced with Stiles looking after them dumbfounded – and look around for the bar.

“I wonder if Dean and Ian are here,” Stiles says on their way to the bar as they pass half the club. They reach the bar area where there are lots of little tables and chairs, all of them occupied, mostly by kissing persons. But there are also many standing around and there’s a particular couple who blocks their way to the bar.

“Hey, sor…” Scott starts but startles as he surveys the two persons. It’s not the guy that made him double-take but the girl. Brown hair, long eyelashes and dimples which Scott would recognize everywhere. A hot, white, boiling sensations starts bubbling up inside of him as the guy grabs Allison’s ass and kisses her neck. Scott clenches his teeth and darts forwards, ignoring Stiles’ anxious “Scott?”. Just moments before he reaches for the guy’s wrist, the girl’s eyes flutter open but that just encourages Scott. He grabs the dude’s wrist.

“Let. Go. Off her,” he growls and yanks the other one’s hand away from Allison. Scott doesn’t see how she looks at him in complete shock.

“The hell, dude?” the brown haired, super defined guy says with an angry expression and for a heartbeat, Scott wonders if he’d start a fight, but he just glares at Scott and turns around.

“Yeah, right, never touch her again!” Scott calls after him. He breathes heavily as he turns to Allison who still stares at him.

He doesn’t care.

He darts forwards and grabs Allison’s neck, kissing her forcefully. It’s been four years since he last kissed her and he never quite gave up the hope that one day, he would kiss her again. And now he does. It feels like his toes are curling up, like he’s as light as a feather, and a shiver runs down his spine, giving him goosebumps. Just then he’s afraid that maybe he’s too dashing so he places his hands on her hips and cautiously pulls her towards himself.

And he feels her smiling into the kiss.

And it makes him smile too. Is this real?

It has to be, because Scott makes his way down Allison’s jaw (oh my god, that jaw, how he missed it, that jaw that could cut glass, that makes her look so daring and strong) until he reaches her ear and sucks her earlobe into his mouth and a moan escapes her.

But not just her.

Stiles groaned in unison with her.

“God, get a room!” he cries and Scott can imagine his exact expression, but he can’t bring himself to care. He’s here, kissing Allison, and this isn’t another wet dream of his he had more than once over the passing years. “Man, I’m gone. I’m gonna drink all of your beer in the hotel, Scott!” Stiles calls as he passes them on the way to the bar.

Scott returns to Allison’s mouth, his hands still resting on her hips, her hands around his neck, and he can still taste the other guy’s tequila on her lips, to he tries to kiss that taste away. This feels too good to be true, and the fact that Allison doesn’t move away but pulls herself closer to him makes it even more unbelievable.

“Am I dreaming?” he asks between their kisses and it makes Allison chuckle.

“No, you’re not,” she replies and smiles before she kisses him again, her tongue making its way into his mouth which is more than welcome to him.

He feels alive. He hasn’t felt this alive since he broke up with Kira. He hadn’t even felt this alive with Kira. This is what he needs, needs forever.

He kisses her neck and his hands wander over her sides and her scent fills his nose so he nuzzles it into the crease of her neck to drown in it.

“Scott?” Allison whispers breathlessly and it takes some moments for him to tear himself away from her scent that makes him feel more drunk than it maybe should. His eyes wander up over her lips to her eyes and he feels something blossom inside him at the sight of the look in her eyes. “Don’t you wanna get out of here?” she asks with a deep stare.

This is really happening. Scott grins brightly and nods, so Allison takes his hand and pulls him through the mass of people dancing and kissing and shouting and drinking and singing until they stand on the sidewalk and a soft breeze filled with the scent of the ocean hits their faces. Allison laughs and whirls around. Scott watches her fascinated. Her flower dress barely covers her butt as it flies up as she spins around another time, her arms stretched out. She comes to a halt and stretches her arm out to him.

“Come on,” she chimes and Scott doesn’t even hesitate a second to take her hand. Their fingers entwine within a heartbeat and so, Scott brushes his thumb over the back of her hand.

“Where are we going?” Scott asks after a few minutes because he didn’t want to interrupt Allison singing. She looks over at him and smiles.

“My hotel, it’s just a couple of minutes away,” she says and points her finger at a hotel nearby. It looks better than the one Stiles and he are staying at.

“Nice,” Scott states. Suddenly they hear a roar of thunder and stop to look at the sky. It’s filled with stormy clouds. And just then, the first drop of rain hits the pavement. Allison shoots Scott a fearful look before she starts running.

The thunderstorm only needs seconds before the heaviest rainfall starts, drenching both of them before they reach the saving foyer of the hotel. They are both panting and laughing as they try to catch their breath.

“How unfortunate,” Scott laughs as he wrings out his shirt.

“We won’t need our clothes anymore in a minute,” Allison whispers mischievously and takes Scott’s hand, dragging him towards the elevator. It seems to take an eternity for it to get there, but once they are in and Allison pressed the button with the 5 on it and the doors are closed, they are all over each other again.

When the elevator reaches the fifth floor, they stumble out into the hallway and can’t get their hands off each other on the way to Allison’s room. A tiny voice inside Scott’s head asks how Allison could afford such a hotel and if they’ll be alone, but then Allison opens the door and pulls him inside.

As soon as she closes the door, he turns her around by her hips and presses her against the door, peppering kisses all over her skin. He feels her shivering underneath him. That’s when he notices how _hot_ it is in the room. For a moment he tries to ask why, but Allison tastes so good on his lips, he doesn’t want to stop kissing her.

Eventually, they move to the bed, their clothes falling down on the way. The first drops of sweat start forming on their skin as Scott goes down on Allison, licking her wet.

“Oh God,” Allison moans and fists her hand in his hair. “God, _please_ ,” she pleads and Scott takes it as an invitation to go a step further. As he enters her, her breath stutters and her eyes flutter close.

“Allison,” Scott whispers into her hair as he leans closer. His thrusts are soft and slow at first, but grow faster every minute. Allison drags her nails over his back, soft enough not so scratch him, but it sends a tingling sensation down his spine. Soon, they are covered in sweat and the blankets are shoved down the bed because it is so _hot_ , but they can’t stop. They change positions and everything, every sound, every touch, every scent, mix into a numbing _something_ that Scott can’t wrap his head around. And Scott can’t stop to mutter “Allison, Allison, Allison,” as he comes, and he can’t stop thinking “Allison, Allison, Allison,” as he lays down next to her and kisses her palm and her shoulder and her collarbones and her nipples and her bellybutton.

*

The next morning they are woken by the rising sun that sends its rays through the blinds. Scott blinks the sleep out of his eyes and looks down. Allison lays in his arms. There are light strips around her hips, her neck and her ribcage where her bikini covered her skin and Scott traces them with his fingers.

Allison smiles before she opens her eyes and looks up at him.

“Hey,” he whispers and smiles. Allison returns it.

“That’s the first time I woke up in your arms.”

Scott’s thunderstruck. She’s right. He kisses her forehead. But as he draws back, he frowns. He’s afraid that the question that just formed in his head is too big for too early, but if he doesn’t ask it now, it would be stuck in his head for forever.

“Do you still love me?” He holds his breath, waiting for an answer from Allison. But she just jerks her neck and gives him an awkward look, pinching her eyebrows.

“I said ‘I love you’ as I came tonight. Not just once,” she says and Scott can’t stop the laughter bursting out. If there’s one thing that Allison should remember from their time together in high school, it’s that whenever they had sex he never quite heard anything she said during it and that certainly didn’t change.

Suddenly, Allison straightens herself up and pulls her pillow from underneath her and slaps it across Scott’s face.

“Hey, what was that for?” he asks startled, still smirking.

“For laughing at me,” Allison states and hits him another time. But in a matter of seconds, Scott takes his pillow and starts a pillow fight. Allison shrieks as she topples over from his hit and he starts to tickle her. And of course their pillow fight ends in sex within minutes.

They decide to get a shower afterwards which ends in wild making out, but Scott feels like they have to make up for four years of lost time and sex and making out with Allison is the best, so who cares, it’s not like somebody is judging them because this is Spring Break country and that means fucking stranger’s brains out, just that the two of them are not really strangers.

Afterwards they lay down on the bed, turned towards each other and still naked, Allison’s wet hair drenching the sheet. They smile at one another for a while before Scott breaks the comfortable silence.

“I didn’t know you’d spend Spring Break here,” he states. Allison shrugs her shoulders.

“Lydia wanted to go here.” Which brings up the next question.

“Where is she?” Scott asks with a confused expression.

“Oh, you didn’t know? I thought Stiles told you,” Allison starts and takes his hand. “Lydia’s grandma died two days before our flight so she went to Beacon Hills for the break.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, pretty bad timing. We picked this room for the both of us and when I suggested to find a new room for myself she said she’d pay her half of the room and honestly, it was too late to find a new room anyway, so I kept it.”

“This means we’ve got all this… to ourselves?” Scott inquires and gestures around the room.

“Yes,” Allison smirks.

“Awesome,” Scott says and leans forward to kiss Allison.

It’s around four when they finally leave the hotel, fingers entwined, cheeks heated from their latest sex and smiles lingering on their lips. It’s almost unbearable hot outside, even hotter than in their room, so they head for the first ice cream parlor in sight. With their cones in hand, they walk down the boardwalk.

“So how’s Anthropology going?” Scott asks after stopping a drop of ice cream from running down the outside of the cone.

“Pretty good, actually,” Allison says and licks a stripe around her ice cream. “I’m also doing a minor in French now.”

“Coup de foudre,” Scott says, the first thing that comes to his mind.

“Oui,” Allison replies, smirking.

“God, I love you,” Scott bursts out and it makes Allison giggle like a little girl. Strangers stare at them because why the hell are they holding hands, this is Spring Break, _the_ time of the year for singles, and those two are obviously _not_ single.

“Scott,” Allison says reproachfully and takes another lick from her ice cream.

“What? I do,” he defends himself but Allison just rolls her eyes and grins.

“I know.”

By the time they finish their cones the sweat drips down their skin already again and this only means one thing: getting into the water as quickly as possible.

“Who’s in last is a loser!” Allison calls and starts running towards the water, but Scott is already on her heels. The water splashes up as they run into it, not caring about taking their clothes off because Scott just wears his bathing trunks and Allison a bikini and just a denim skirt above so there’s not really anything to care about.

It’s the early evening when Scott remembers that maybe he should check on Stiles and get a few things if he wants to stay another night with Allison, so they leave the beach. Scott kisses Allison goodbye at her hotel and hurries to get to his own.

He’s just about to unlock the door and open it when he hears faint moans and twists his face miserably. He turns around and knocks on Ian’s and Dean’s room instead. A few moments later, Dean opens it and Scott looks at him in surprise.

“You’re not…?” he begins and Dean just slightly shakes his head, gesturing Scott in. He finds Ian leaning out of the window, smoking a cigarette, raising his hand to welcome him. Scott waves back and then sits down on Ian’s bed while Dean stretches out on his own.

“I’d have thought he found you at the party yesterday,” Scott states as Ian rounds the bed and sits down next to him.

“He found… someone different before we met.” Dean doesn’t look too upset about it. “Sounds like they’re having fun.”

Scott looks over to Ian, his face in mental pain because if there’s one thing he doesn’t want to imagine it’s his bro having sex. Fortunately, music’s playing loud enough it at least muffles the sounds from next door.

Sometime the next hour they hear a door being opened and Scott swiftly heads outside to catch Stiles, only to witness Stiles tapping the guy’s ass and winking at him which the guy returns as he makes his way down the hallway towards the elevator. Then, Stiles eyes wander over to Scott and his faces splits into a big grin, he bites his lip and nods in a great fashion.

“Jerk,” Scott says and gets into their room.

“You should have been aware that that’d happen when you left with Allison,” Stiles says and of course he’s right. It’s not like Scott blames him.

“Dean said it sounded like you had fun,” he says and grins.

“Oh yeah,” Stiles grins in return. “I had a good time. In fact, I had several good times. In several different positions.”

Scott can’t help but laugh. He vividly remembers how Stiles said it almost exactly like this back in their junior year at high school. He pats Stiles’ shoulder.

“Good for you.” He turns towards the dresser to pull out his bag. “I had several good times too, six, to be exactly, and Allison still moans like back in high school.”

“TMI, Scott. Just, no!” Scott grins to himself.

“I won’t complain if one day you come to me and tell me how good your first sex with Derek was,” Scott says.

“Which won’t happen,” Stiles interrupts and Scott hears how he rolls himself a spliff.

“Time will tell,” Scott whispers loud enough for Stiles to hear as he pulls a few clothes out of his bag and throws them onto the ground.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asks on his way to the window. Scott turns around and looks at his best friend with raised eyebrows. Stiles stops, his hand on the handle of the window. “Oh, right, why did I even ask,” he murmurs and opens the window.

Scott picks out a few more clothes and throws them carelessly into a plastic bag. He heads for the bathroom to fetch his toothbrush and shampoo which he lays atop the clothes.

“You know, Scott,” Stiles says calmly as he takes a drag. “I’ll probably smoke all of our weed.”

Scott looks up and shrugs his shoulders.

“Alright,” he says carelessly. Stiles deserves at least this. They intended to spend Spring Break together and now Allison somehow blew up this plan – which isn’t her fault because if Scott had been over her nothing like this would have happened – so he can at least grant him the weed. “Sorry.”

Stiles turns his head surprised, but smiles.

“It’s okay,” he says as he comes over. “To be honest that was the exact reaction I imagined you’d have if we met Allison here.” Which makes Scott remember that Lydia told Stiles she and Allison’d spend Spring Break here.

“Allison told me Lydia told you,” he says, not accusing.

“Yeah, about that,” Stiles starts. “I figured that if you didn’t know you wouldn’t spend every minute looking for her.”

Scott steps forward and hugs Stiles, careful not to hit the joint out of Stiles’ hand.

“Thanks, bro.” He steps back and gives his best friend a fond look.

“No problemo, amigo,” Stiles says in a fake Mexican accent and they both start laughing. “So she still likes you enough to have sex with you?”

“She still loves me,” Scott counters and it looks like Stiles’ eyes want to pop out of his face.

“No way!” he exclaims and begins to grin.

“She does.”

“God, you’re the biggest lucky fellow I know,” Stiles says before he takes another drag, trying to blow smoke rings, handing the joint to Scott then.

“Are you okay with it? That I wanna spend the next days with Allison? Because you know it’s already Thursday and we’re leaving on Sunday and that means I’ve got barely two and a half days left.”

Stiles waves his hand carelessly at Scott.

“Do as you like, bro, I don’t mind.” He grins and shoulder hugs Scott. “Because this not only means I don’t have to listen to you talking about your sex life, but also that I have this room all to myself and I can jerk off whenever I want and fuck whoever I want whenever I want.”

“Alriiight,” Scott says and shimmies out of the hug, taking a drag. “And you won’t be too lonely?” he reassures himself.

“Nah, I’ve got Ian and Dean next door if it gets too hard,” he says and grins before he pinches Scott’s cheek. “Now get your butt to Allison, I know you want to.”

Scott grins and hands the last bit of the spliff back to Stiles before he gets up. He picks up his plastic bag, opens the door and turns around to Stiles in the doorframe. “Call me whenever, alright?”

“A’ight,” Stiles says, nodding, before he tries to blow smoke rings again.

“See you on Sunday,” Scott says before he closes the door and gets on his way to Allison.

*

The next two days pass way too fast for Scott’s liking. It rains the whole Friday so they actually visit a Museum – the woman at the entrance shooting them weird glances – but Allison demanded that they get outside at least once. Later, when it’s dark and the clock nears midnight they make their way to a club to dance through the night.

The weather on Saturday is wonderful again and they spend the whole day on the beach and Scott surprises Allison as he takes her to a restaurant for dinner, not some kind of snack bar or something, but a real restaurant. He wears his best shorts – not bathing trunks – and a decent shirt. Allison looks fabulous, her hair up in a messy bun, strands of her hair surrounding her face, a light shimmer on her lips from the lip gloss, wearing a white dress that emphasizes her tan. She blushes and chuckles whenever Scott compliments her and he entwines their fingers across the table as they wait for the dessert.

“Thanks,” Allison says as the waiter places their desserts in front of them. Scott wants to ask for what, but Allison starts talking again. “For never giving up on me.”

It makes Scott smile brightly and he doesn’t care that his ice cream starts to melt.

“How could I? You’re _you_ ,” he simply states and squeezes her hand. He wonders how he managed to get through the last four years without her.

Later, he pays for their dinner and they head back to Allison’s hotel, holding hands.

They don’t sleep. Scott doesn’t want to miss a single second of the time he has left here with Allison, and apparently neither does she. Every spot she kisses on his skin seems to be set ablaze and he promises himself he won’t forget a single one, forever. Every line he traces with his fingers on her skin leaves goosebumps behind which gives him goosebumps in return. He loves her slowly and tender, only increasing his speed as she begs him to. He drowns in her scent, a scent he can’t describe but reminds him of summer, of freshly mowed grass and the first rainfall in spring and of the taste of ice cream on his tongue, it smells like the sound of the first birds in spring and the feeling of rays of sunshine that streak his face.

He can’t believe that this is real.

But the time comes that Scott has to head back to his hotel to pack his back so he and Stiles get to the airport in time. They linger on the doorstep, Scott holding Allison’s hands.

“See you during summer?” Allison asks, a crooked smile distorting her face. Scott squeezes her hand.

“The latest,” Scott reassures her and leans forward to kiss her cheek.   
“Have a nice flight,” Allison says and lets go off his hand to hug him tightly.

“You too,” he replies as their embrace breaks apart. He’s unsure what to say next, so he just says “Bye” and turns down the hallway. Allison remains in the doorframe. He stops in front of the elevator and pushed the button when suddenly, Allison calls “I love you” and runs towards him. She flings her arms around his neck and kisses him passionately.

“I love you too,” he manages to say between their kisses and brushes through her hair. “Do you wanna…”

“Yes. Yes, yes, yes,” Allison says breathlessly, cutting him off. Then the elevator arrives and Allison pushes him inside once the doors open. “I’ll call you!” is the last thing Scott hears her say before the doors close again.

Originally he intended to sleep on the plane, but his thoughts race a mile a minute and he can’t quite comprehend the events of the last days.

“You look happy, dude,” Stiles says as he sits down next to him again when he comes back from the toilet.

“Because I am,” he plainly says. “I wish you could be that happy too, bro.” Stiles chuckles.

“My time will come,” he grins and pulls out his phone to play Temple Run.

Scott looks around the plane instead. The girl who sits across the aisle catches his eye. It’s the girl he made out with in the ocean when they went skinny dipping.

“Hey,” he whispers and she looks over at him. There’re dark circles underneath her eyes and she sports a cut lip. Scott gasps. “You okay?”

She pinches her eyebrows.

“Do I know you?” she asks, studying him.

“Not quite,” Scott says and wonders how he can explain who he is without laying out her whole miserable story in front of all these strangers. “I brought you to your hostel when you… er… drank too much,” he quickly says. But a spark starts shining in her eyes as, obviously, she remembers.

“Oh my god that was you?” she gasps and turns towards him. “Sorry you had to put up with me. But thanks a lot.” He sees that her knuckles are bruised and wonders what she got herself into.

“No problem. I couldn’t leave you at the beach, could I?” he asks rhetorically because who wouldn’t help a drunken girl who lays helplessly at the beach?

“No, really, _thank you_ ,” she emphasizes. “There are not many guys like you out there. Whoever will spend their life with you is really lucky.”

Scott can’t stop the bright smile that spreads across his face. The girl smiles slightly before she thanks him again and turns around in her chair.

*

How the hell is he supposed to learn when he could also open Skype and chat with Allison? Or think about her? Or try writing a poem for her?

University really is a mess then. Just now, Scott thought his marks would stay up when he finds himself in an internal struggle to keep himself from thinking about Allison which makes him think about Allison which makes him want to call her which makes him aware that she lives several hours away from him which makes him sad which makes him call her. He actually skips several of his classes just to skype with her because all her days are packed with classes whereas his are not but when she’s free he’s got classes – god damn it.

“Scott? Hey, Scotty,” Stiles says, shaking his shoulder and Scott raises his head from his crumpled notes. “Are you serious? I go for a bathroom break and you fall asleep? Really?” Stiles asks mockingly and sits down opposite him. They’re in the middle of a studying session. The end of the semester is just one and a half months away and the finals are getting closer.

“Sorry dude,” he replies, massaging the bridge of his nose. “I…”

“’was awake because I skyped with Allison and then I couldn’t sleep because she’s _sooo_ beautiful’, yes, I know,” Stiles finishes Scott’s sentence and pulls one of the crumpled sheets from under his arms. “You need to study, bro, or Allison will make her threat come true and break up with you,” Stiles reminds him, his eyes flittering over the notes. He takes a red pen and circles Scott’s wrong answers before he hands the paper back to him.

“Still eleven mistakes?” Scott moans and dumps his head onto his crossed arms again.

“Ey,” Stiles laughs and prods Scott’s shoulder which makes him look up again. “Don’t give up, dude. For Allison, right?”

“For Allison,” Scott repeats exhausted and starts to answer the next test sheet Stiles prepared for him. Just then, Zach comes into the living room.

“Still studying?” he asks amused and fetches a Gatorade from the fridge. Scott groans and Stiles grins at Zach.

“Yeah, I don’t wanna end up without my best friend when he jumps out of the window because his girlfriend breaks up with him because he fails his classes,” Stiles explains and pats Scott’s shoulder. Zach chuckles.

“Good luck, Scott,” he says before he vanishes into his room again.

“Thanks,” Scott murmurs and ticks the first answer. Stiles eyes his best friend until he hands him the completed paper. Stiles checks it and circles the wrong answers again.

“Two?” Scott asks unbelieving and looks up at Stiles from the paper.

“Yup,” Stiles agrees and smiles. “Taking into account that you missed half your classes this semester because of Allison, you’re still doing pretty well.”

“Don’t,” Scott simply says and Stiles quickly covers his mouth with his hand.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and gestures at the next paper. “Come on, one more, then I’ll let you sleep.”

“Alright,” Scott agrees reluctantly and takes the next paper. “I’m gonna pass the finals, right?” he asks anxiously after some time, ticking the seventh answer.

“Yeah, don’t worry,” Stiles says and wiggles his eyebrows. “You’ve got me.”

“God, yes, thank you.”

“Stiles.”

“What?” Scott wonders, looking up from the paper.

“Stiles. Not God.” Stiles bursts out laughing and Scott has to chuckle too.

“You’re the worst,” Scott states and surveys his best friend.

“I know; brings me sleepless nights,” Stiles jokes and then hurries Scott to finish the paper. When he has done so, Stiles checks it and ticks four wrong answers.

“Tomorrow I’m gonna let you answer real questions with real answers, not this pop quiz bullshit.” Scott groans.

“Can I go to bed now?” he asks, barely hiding a yawn. Stiles just jerks his head at the bedroom.

“I’ll find out by myself,” he says as he collects stray papers and makes his way out.

*

Their studying intensifies as the finals draw nearer and Scott constantly whines how he doesn’t find enough time to sleep, but Stiles doesn’t let that excuse count, always mentioning that he doesn’t want to lose Scott because he fails something as trivial as finals.

When the finals are over at last, he can’t thank Stiles enough for it because he actually passes all of his classes with acceptable marks.

Normally, the end of the summer semester would have meant he could have spent time with Allison but the luck isn’t on Scott’s side.

“What do you mean, you won’t be in Beacon Hills?” Scott asks dumbfounded. Tomorrow he’ll head back to BH together with Stiles and he uses the chance to skype with Allison this evening.

Allison bites her lip and fiddles around with her hands.

“Dad booked a flight for us and he… he wanted to surprise me, he just told me this morning and oh Scott, if I knew earlier, I would have cancelled the vacation,” she explains miserably. Scott looks at her in shock.

“You won’t be gone the whole break, will you?” he tries, but he already knows the answer.

“Unfortunately, I will,” Allison says with an uneasy expression.

“Where are you going?” Scott asks breathlessly, trying to comprehend that all of his plans for the summer concerning Allison vanished within seconds.

“Côte d’Azur.” Allison sighs. “And Dad comes down here so we can take the flight directly from San Diego together.” She rests her chin on her knee, pouting.

“That… that means I won’t see you all summer?” A knot starts to twist in his stomach. If he can’t see Allison during their break, the next possibility would be the Christmas Break because it’s not like he has a lot of spare money from which he could fly down to San Diego. He’ll work at Deaton’s over summer like he used to back in high school, but that doesn’t help if Allison will be in Europe until their new semester starts.

“We could still skype?” she suggests and smiles and it warms his heart.

“God damn it, I already miss you like crazy, Allison, how am I supposed to get through another six months without seeing you?” It’s not her fault, it’s nobody’s fault. It just feels like the universe is against their love.

“You’re not thinking that the universe is against our love again, are you?” Allison chuckles and her eyes glisten.

“Nooo?” he says, trying to sound innocent but failing greatly. It makes Allison laugh.

“The time will pass, Scott, and just when you think it won’t, it’ll be December and we’re both in Beacon Hills and I promise you I won’t let my Dad take me on another trip, he can shove his love for foreign countries up his…”

“I get it, Allison,” Scott stops her and he feels a bit better. “I just miss you terribly, you know?”

“I know… are you alone?”

Suddenly Stiles looks up from his phone where he’s lying on Zach’s vacant bed and stares at Scott with his eyes wide open before he scrambles out of it and slams the door shut behind him.

“Now, yes,” Scott grins and gets comfortable on his bed.

 

“Jeez, you couldn’t have spared me, could you?” Stiles asks some time later when Scott enters the living room.

“That was your own fault,” he says smirking and steals a few Doritos from Stiles as he sits down next to him.

“I hope you washed that hand,” Stiles notes pointedly, looking down at Scott’s fingers with a raised eyebrow. Scott loses his smile.

“Fuck.” He jumps up from the couch and heads over to the kitchen sink.

“Ewww!” Stiles shouts and throws the still half full bag of chips after him. “Here, you can eat those alone, you’re disgusting!”

Scott turns around and picks up the bag, sitting down next to Stiles again.

“Yeah, if you would get a move on with Derek, you’d know what it’s like,” Scott says, for which Stiles slaps him across his belly.

*

Scott storms into Stiles’ bedroom with an original McCall apple pie with just the right amount of cinnamon in it and Stiles eyes flutter open.

“Mhhh,” it escapes him and he sniffs the air.

“Happy 22nd, Bro,” Scott calls and sets down the pie on Stiles’ bedside table before he embraces his best friend.

“Thank you,” Stiles sing songs and straightens himself up. He eyes the pie. “Just what I desired for breakfast.” He digs his index finger into one of the holes and licks the filling from his finger. “Delicious as always,” he grins as Scott pulls an awkwardly wrapped present from behind his back. Stiles takes it from his hands and undoes it. He pulls a bright yellow beanie from within the wrapping paper. He looks up at Scott, first confused but then trying to hide a questioning smirk.

“Why the hell would I need a beanie in California?” he asks and turns the woolen piece in his fingers.

“I figured it’d fit you. And that someone might like it.” Scott thinks about the time he spotted Derek in H&M, inspecting said beanie.

“For God’s sake,” Stiles exclaims and gives Scott a judging look. “Stop doing that kind of stuff. Stop trying to make Derek and me happen. It’s not gonna happen.”

“Did you just quote Mean Girls to me?” Scott chuckles.

“I may have but just because you’re ridiculous to think Derek could have a thing for me in, like, a thousand years. See this?” He gestures up and down his front. “He’s all muscles and what am I? All I’ve got is my sarcasm.” He sighs.

“You’ve got more than your sarcasm, Stiles, you know that,” Scott says encouraging.

“Yeah, moles,” Stiles mutters disappointed and Scott suddenly feels bad.

“Hey, come on, at least you’ve got the pie,” he tries to cheer his best friend up again.

“Fuck the pie, I want Derek.” And wow, that’s the furthest Stiles has ever come to acknowledging his feelings.

All of a sudden, Stiles’ phone chimes. He picks it up from the bedside table where it lays next to the apple pie and looks at the screen. Red blotches appear on his cheeks. He hastily shoves the phone underneath his pillow and looks at Scott again.

“Alright, uhm, do you wanna come over later on again so we can play Batman or something?” Stiles asks. “Or not, I’m okay with either, I don’t care, just tell me if you wanna, or not, I don’t know.”

“Yeah, I’ll come over in an hour or two,” Scott says slowly and eyes Stiles suspiciously as he stands up.

“Alright, yeah, see you then,” Stiles stutters and Scott waves him goodbye as he leaves the room. He slightly sees how Stiles pulls his mobile from under the pillow again and smiles at the screen.

As he goes down the Stilinski’s front door’s steps he pulls out his mobile and texts Derek.

 

**You did not just wish Stiles a happy birthday, did you?**

It takes Derek some minutes to reply, fourteen to be exactly, and Scott can picture the precise internal struggle the older man went through to reply to his text.

 

**Yes. Why?**

Scott grins as he types away.

 

**Because he went all fuzzy and red and dorky smiling ;)**

Derek doesn’t reply but Scott doesn’t need him to. He knows it can’t take long for the two of them to finally find one another.

*

Two days later they are back in Fresno. And it may surprise him or not, but the time really does fly by. They are in their final year and the lectures get more complex than ever, his schedule is more packed than in the years before and Scott finds himself studying in the middle of the night more than once. He works hard on his Bachelor thesis already because he knows that if he doesn’t start early he’d fuck it up.

And suddenly it’s December 23rd and Scott sits on the train back to Beacon Hills. Stiles sits next to him, talking, but he barely hears every tenth word.

Camden picks them up at the station because everyone else is on shift, including Isaac which makes Scott kind of sad, but he’s got two weeks of free time ahead of him and if he doesn’t manage to stop by before the end of it, he made sure that they all celebrate New Year’s Eve together.

“You keeping an eye on Isaac?” Scott asks as Camden finally drops him off, standing in the door. Camden looks over from the driver’s seat and smiles.

“Sure. He’s doing fine, but he misses you. Doesn’t talk about it, but he does. Try to find some time for him while you’re back, yes?” he asks with a stern look.

“I will,” Scott says and shuts the door, making his way inside.  

He would have gone with Camden to visit Isaac right then but since Isaac is still at work, it is no use. And Allison won’t be back for another two hours, so Scott carelessly unpacks his bag and tries to find something to keep his mind off things. But all he manages to think is “Allison will be back in 1.23” and “Allison will be back in 1.17” and “Allison will be back in 1.02” and so on. When there’s hardly half an hour without Allison in Beacon Hills left, Scott grabs his bike and drives to her house. Well, Chris’ and Allison’s house. As he arrives in their driveway he’s panting hard and sloppily leans his bike against the bushes and sits down on the steps. When his breath evened out again he thinks about making it more of a surprise for Allison, hiding his bike and sitting down on the bench on the front porch instead of on the steps, but he’s certain he couldn’t hold himself back long enough to sit silently on the bench until she notices him.

And he’s right. As soon as he sees the Argent’s car turning the corner of the street in the distance he jumps up and a bright smile radiates off his face.

Allison’s here.

He runs down the driveway.

Allison’s here.

The car pulls into the driveway and comes to a halt.

Allison’s here.

He rounds the car and pulls open the passenger’s side door and awkwardly hugs Allison who didn’t even manage to unbuckle her seatbelt.

“Scott,” she chuckles as he peppers her face with kisses. “Scott.” He doesn’t stop. “Scott,” she giggles as he goes to bite her lip. Scott draws back to look at her face properly. “Will you let me get out, please? And it would be cool if you can also say hello to my Dad.”

“But I wanna kiss you,” Scott mutters as he places another kiss on Allison’s face. But Allison shoves him back by his shoulders, an apologetic look on her face.

“We can kiss in a few minutes again. A lot.” She smiles. Scott still hesitates, biting his lip. “Be a gentleman and help my dad get my stuff inside,” Allison says and jerks her head at the trunk and Scott gets his move on.

Chris already began to bring Allison’s bags into the house but as Scott rounds the car he sees that there are still two bags in the trunk, so he grabs them and heads inside. He comes face to face with Chris in the entrée. He hastily drops Allison’s bags carefully to the ground and stretches out his hand.

“Good evening, Mr. Argent,” he says and Chris takes his hand with a smirk before he pulls Scott into a hug.

“Good to see you, Scott,” he says, pats his back and lets go off him then. “And I told you, you can call me Chris.” Scott smiles sheepishly because Chris offered it to him more than once but whenever they meet for the first time after he’s been at university, he feels like he needs to show a little decency.

Then, Scott hears the door close behind him and he whirls around to find Allison and then he whirls _her_ around, almost toppling over the bags that still litter the entrée.

“Kids,” Chris mutters and shoves the bags to the side before retreating into the kitchen.

Scott takes Allison’s hand and pulls her upstairs and just when he’s about to close the door to her bedroom, he hears Chris calling from downstairs.

“I don’t wanna be up the whole night, Scott. Allison.”

“God,” Allison mutters, half laughing, half groaning, and slams the door shut.

Instantly, her arms are around his neck and his fingertips already explore the soft skin underneath her sweater.

“I missed you, I missed… I missed you so much,” he stutters as she kisses down his neck and it knots up his stomach in the best ways possible.  

“I missed you too,” she breathes across his skin before she entwines her fingers with his and pulls him to her bed, still kissing him. Then, Scott feels the edge of the bed hitting the back of his knees and he sinks back onto it, pulling Allison down as he cups her cheeks. She straddles him and pushes him further down with her kisses.

Her tongue slides over his lips and he more than willingly responds to it, his hand stroking through her hair. Scott feels Allison’s fingers trailing down his torso and oh my, there goes the button of his jeans. And the fly.

“Off, off with those,” Allison mutters, eyes half closed as she tries to push his jeans down. Scott grabs her by her hips and turns them around so now he’s on top. He shimmies out of his pants which takes longer than he wants it too, because he’s already sporting a serious boner plus Allison hastily takes off her sweater, undoing her bra and pulling down her jeans and panties and socks altogether and Scott has to gasp for breath at the sight of her.

Allison just smirks.

“You’ll be naked over there sometime soon or should I start already?” she asks, cocking her head at him, the smirk not leaving her face. Scott’s eyes grow big. His cock twitches at the thought of Allison getting herself off, but that’s definitely something for a different day. Right now, _he_ wants to get Allison off. He pulls his shirt off and his boxers down, not wasting a single thought to where he throws them.

In the meantime, Allison moves over to the middle of the bed and when Scott finally, _finally_ has all of his clothes off, he leans forward onto his elbows, placing kisses along the inside of Allison’s thighs.

“I love you,” he mutters between every other kiss, making his way up.

He can’t really believe he’s here, with Allison, that all of this is really happening.

He huffs a warm breath across Allison’s skin near her vagina, smiling, and it makes Allison shiver.

“Please, Scott, just…” she trails off, her fingers finding their way into his hair, pushing him down.

Scott wets his lips before he licks a stripe over Allison’s clitoris. Her breath stutters and the grip of her fingers loosens for a moment before it intensifies again. Scott licks another time, with more pressure and slower this time, and he feels Allison’s heels digging into the mattress. He keeps the pace, knowing that I’d drive Allison insane if he didn’t. But also when he does.

A couple of moments later, Scott stops his doing but only to wet two of his fingers and slide them into Allison. He continues to lick her, curling his fingers up in between his licks, and it makes her moan almost instantly.

He’s leaking already, the drop of pre-come smearing between his cock and his stomach where it’s trapped between the bed and himself. He tries to move onto his knees to ease the tension without interrupting getting Allison worked up, but she pulls him face to face with herself by his hair.

“I love you Scott,” she says breathlessly, cheeks red, “so do me a favor and just fuck me already.”

Scott doesn’t need to be told twice. He licks his hand to slick up his cock before he aligns it to enter Allison, slowly pushing the head in.

“Oh my god…” Allison sighs, her eyes fluttering close as Scott pushes in completely, resting a moment to wrap his head around the hot feeling of Allison around him. Allison slings her legs around his hips, pulling him closer still. Scott sags onto his elbows, resting his head on Allison’s shoulder before he pulls his hips back a few inches to thrust back in. Suddenly he realizes that he won’t last long and he feels bad for a second because he wants to make Allison feel good, _so good_ , but then his hips start moving on their own accord and GOD did he miss that feeling. Allison starts moaning his name and he wants to moan hers too, but all he manages are unintelligible scraps of her name.

The bed starts creaking as his thrusts get harder and faster and _now_ he remembers why they used to have more sex at his place than here. But then Allison’s fingernails dig into the skin of his back and she clenches around him and it sends him over the edge. He comes with groan, shivering at the overwhelming feeling, and lets himself sink down onto Allison, their sweaty chests smacking together.

Allison strokes his back for a few moments before she clears her throat.

“Oh, righ’,” Scott slurs, heaving himself onto his hands again, looking around for tissues. There’s a pack on the nightstand, but it’s out of reach. “Damn it,” he curses because his limbs feel like spaghetti and he’s sure he won’t be able to move both of them over. And then Allison laughs because honestly, this has happened far too often.

“Alright, come on,” she says, pushing her hips up so they can move closer to the bedside table. It takes them three of those pushes until they are near enough so that Scott can fetch the pack and get some tissues out for them. Scott pulls himself out of Allison and they clean themselves up, throwing the tissues into the direction of the bin afterwards.

Allison already laid down on the bed, so Scott snuggles himself next to her, playing with her hair.

“You’re letting it grow again,” he says, happily, because he really likes Allison’s long hair.

“Yeah, I like to braid it,” she replies smiling, rolling onto her side, facing Scott. “I see you don’t.”

“Braid it?” Scott says confused and it makes Allison giggle.

“No, dumbass, let it grow.”

“Oh… no. Obviously not.” Scott pulls Allison close to his chest and sighs. “It’s been too long.” Allison nuzzles her head into Scott’s shoulder.

“I know. But’s it’s only six months left, right? And then we’ll both be back here in Beacon Hills and that’ll be awesome.”

She’s right. They have their last semester ahead of them and it’s not so long after all, taking into account that he survived four years without Allison, but not that he has her back again, it feels like he can’t go a day without holding her in his arms.

“I wanna be with you forever, Allison,” he mumbles into her hair, kissing the top of her head.

“I know, and I’m looking forward to every day waking up next to you,” she replies and it warms his insides. All of a sudden, Allison's stomach grumbles.

“You haven’t had dinner yet, have you?” Scott asks and Allison shakes her head, looking up to him. “Well then, we better get going and get something into your cute little stomach,” he says, poking her belly. She slaps his hand away and gets up to put her clothes back on. Then she turns around to Scott, who still lingers on the bed, with a bright smile.

“I know what we’re eating: Chinese!”

And not more than twenty minutes later they sit in front of each other in a Chinese restaurant across town, digging into their fried noodles with chicken. On the way back they stop by Scott’s house so he can say hello to his mom who’s back from her shift at last and take a few fresh clothes with him because of course he’ll be spending the night at the Argent’s.

The next morning, it looks like Chris has actually got some dark circles around his eyes and Scott has to bite his lip so he doesn’t start laughing when he looks over at Allison at the breakfast table.

Scott stays at the Argents until the early evening before he can’t find any more excuses to not go home because his mom already called him three times and he promised her to help setting up the Christmas tree. So he kisses Allison goodbye, not wanting to leave but having to, and drives home to get everything ready for Christmas.

Melissa bought a nice tree – no, they are not one of those who use the same plastic tree every year _like the Stilinskis_ – but they decide on the classic red and white Christmas tree decorations they use almost every year. It takes them about two hours until every ball is in place and all the garlands are hung. Melissa actually collapses onto the sofa afterwards and Scott makes her a hot chocolate because she deserves it and presses a kiss to her temple before he flops down on the sofa next to her, turning the TV on and searching for a movie they could watch before getting into bed.

The next morning, Scott is woken by the delicious smell of pancakes and so he gets downstairs into the kitchen where his mom greets him with a smile and jerks her head at a plate full of pancakes standing on the counter. He kisses her cheek and as he sits down in front of the pancakes he remembers how good it is to be home. They head over to the Stilinskis for the Christmas dinner how they always do since Claudia died and it feels right, like family, and Scott and Stiles play a bunch of video games after dinner whereas Melissa and John chat away and it’s far after midnight when Scott and his mom head home.

Scott planned to stay a reasonable amount of the break at home with his mom, but Melissa has to work anyway so she’s okay that he spends most of the week with Allison. Plus Scott still has to organize New Year’s Eve. At least he thinks so.

Wednesday Evening he opens up his laptop, sitting on Allison’s bed, and logs into his Facebook. Yesterday he sent a message to everyone (well, except Derek who of course doesn’t have Facebook), asking if they were up to spending New Year’s Eve together, and so he reads through the replies first thing. Only to find that only Lydia replied.

“The hell?” he mumbles as he opens their chat. His eyes flutter over her message and by the end of it, he blinks at it in surprise before he turns to Allison.

“You knew of all of this?” he asks her, not angry, just stunned.

“Yeah, she told me a month ago or so” she confesses from where she’s sitting on her desk chair and slings her arms around her tucked up shins. “Lydia had everything already planned when you came up with your plan, or told me, and yeah I thought it was best if she told you herself.” She shrugs her shoulders apologizing. 

So, it looks like they are spending New Year’s Eve at Lydia’s. And everyone’ll be there.

“Man, this is going to be awesome,” Scott says, turning to Allison and smiling brightly.

 

* * *

 

“Eyyy, whaddup?” Stiles booms when Lydia opens the door. He raises the whiskey he’s holding and Lydia rolls her eyes.

“Come in, dumbass,” she laughs and steps aside to let him in.

“Thank you, my fair lady,” he says and bows before getting inside the house. Lydia closes the door behind him and eyes him suspiciously.

“What’s that beanie for?” she asks and picks it so it looks like Stiles wears a pointed cap. He slaps her hand away and straightens it down.

“It’s the middle of the winter, it’s cold outside,” he grins and makes his way to the living room.

“Heeeeeey,” Scott shouts and runs towards Stiles, knocking the air out of his lungs with a bone crushing hug.

“Hey Scotty,” Stiles replies as soon as he manages to take a deep breath. Scott eyes his beanie and his eyes widen.

“You’re wearing my beanie,” he states grinning and points at it, as if it wasn’t obvious what he means.

“My beanie, since you gave it to me. On my birthday. Which makes it a birthday present. From you. To me. So it’s mine, not yours,” Stiles explains and it makes Allison laugh where she sits on the couch. Stiles looks over to her. “Hey Allison.”

“Hey Stiles,” she replies and he strides over to her to give her a tight hug.

“Long time no see,” Stiles notes as he sits down in an armchair next to her. “I hope my dear Scott wasn’t too rough with you?” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“No, actually he…” The bell rings and Lydia gets up to get the door and Allison follows her with her eyes before snapping them back to Stiles. “He was quite gentle,” she finishes and Scott lays his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to place a kiss on her temple.

There’s somewhat of a tumult at the door and in the next moment, Erica and Boyd (hand in hand) enter the room, Isaac trailing behind them.

“Hey ev…” Erica starts to greet but she jumps out of the way as Scott runs towards Isaac and hugs him, judging from the look on Isaac’s face, just as tight as he hugged Stiles earlier. “Everyone.”

Stiles smiles and waves to her which she returns with a happy smile.

“Scott,” Isaac gasps. “No… air…”

Allison slaps her hand before her mouth to stifle her chuckle, but Stiles laughs out loud. Scott lets go off Isaac and holds him at arm’s length to study his face.

“Good to see you, man,” he says and hugs Isaac again, not so tight this time.

Erica sits down on Boyd’s lap on one of the armchairs and Lydia fetches the two others that stand beside the fireplace and situates them around the coffee table which is laden with several sorts of chips and a big bowl of punch before sitting down on one of them, just to jump up again when she gasps “Glasses!” and heads to the kitchen to fetch a glass for everyone. Just as she handed all of them one and noted that they can help themselves with the punch, the bell chimes again. Everyone watches the arch to the hallway expectantly because it’s always funny to watch Derek exploring new surroundings. Sure he was at Lydia’s before, but it’s always an amusing sight.

But before Derek comes into sight, Cora enters the living room with her arm around the small of Lydia’s back, already chatting away. And then there’s Derek. His eyes snap to everyone, beginning at Erica and Boyd, over to Isaac, Scott and Allison until they land on Stiles. Stiles smirks because he can literally feel how the brightness of his beanie makes Derek’s insides squirm.

*

“Dude, why don’t we party at your loft? It’d be rad to set off those fireworks at your roof!” Stiles says some one and a half hours later and as he nudges Derek’s shoulder with his, taking a drag from his spliff. They watch Allison and Scott dance.

“I didn’t quite forget Halloween,” Derek grunts, taking a sip from the punch.

“God, you’re still milking that?” Stiles asks and looks offended. “Besides, it wasn’t even my fault. ‘t was the twins’!” Stiles holds the joint over to Derek with raised eyebrows, but Derek declines. Stiles shrugs and takes another drag himself.

“Still,” Derek says, voice a little softer. “The place reeked of alcohol and sweat and puke for weeks.” Stiles glances over at him, grinning.

“Bet it wasn’t so bad.”

“It was.”

Stiles takes one last puff and drops the stub to the floor, stepping on it.

“Hey!” Lydia calls furiously and struts over to him. She glares at him and points at the floor. “Pick that up,” she demands.

Stiles quivers under her stare and kneels down to pick up the remains of his spliff. Lydia follows him with her eyes until he drops the stub in the ashtray.

“Good boy,” she says and pinches his cheek as he comes back.

And Derek actually chuckles as Lydia goes over to chat with Cora. Stiles turns to him, eyes wide in surprise.

“You _snickered_!” Stiles teases, still not able to comprehend.

Derek reaches forward and pulls Stiles’ beanie down over his eyes.

“Ey!” Stiles protests and hastily pulls his beanie back up again only to find a bright grin – already vanishing again, but still bright – on Derek’s face.

“God, who are you and what did you do to Derek Hale?” Erica calls from the sofa she and Boyd snuggle on.

“Oi, that’s what I wanted to say!” Stiles calls and Erica blows him a kiss, winking. “Damn woman,” he mutters and looks over to Derek again, who studies Stiles’ face.

“What?” Stiles asks and feels around his face. “Is there something there?”

“No,” Derek says and snaps his eyes away from where they were totally lingering on Stiles’ lips.

Stiles suddenly feels Scott’s eyes on him, how is that even possible, and turns around to find his best friend perking his eyebrows at him. He mouths “Asshole” over to him and looks away.

“Uhm, you wan’a new punch?” Stiles asks, looking down at Derek’s almost empty glass.

“No, I’m good,” he replies.

“Alright, but I’m gonna get one myself.” Stiles sneaks inside where Erica awaits him with what can only be described as an evil smile.

“What?” Stiles fills an empty glass up to the brim.

“Nothing,” she says and turns around to Boyd, leaving Stiles gaping at her.

“Geez, woman,” Stiles murmurs and heads outside again to find Isaac next to Derek.

“Hey Isaac,” he says, positioning himself next to Isaac.

“Hey… how’s your study going?” Isaac asks and takes a bite off a pretzel stick.

“Good,” Stiles says and rocks back and forth on his heels. “I can’t wait when university’s over and I can start working. How ‘bout you, you’re satisfied?”

Stiles watches Scott how he listens to Lydia, Cora and Allison while Isaac talks and wonders how the time flies by. They’re almost out of university and it only seems like yesterday that they were sophomores and Allison had her first day at their school.

“… and Camden is so awesome, he comes with me to every game of the Cyclones and everything.” Isaac smiles as he ends.

“Sounds cool,” Stiles agrees and takes a sip from the punch.

“Sucks that you guys aren’t home more often, though,” Isaac confesses, but then his eyes find Cora and they light up. “You’ll… excuse me for a moment, yeah?” he says, already on his way over.

“Doesn’t it bother you?” Stiles asks Derek some moments later and points over to where Isaac crowds Cora’s personal space.

“She’s old enough. And Isaac’s a nice guy, so there’s really nothing I can do,” he says and empties his glass, taking a few steps to set it down on a table.

Stiles takes a look at his watch and whistles to “Happy” running in the background. It’s 11.33 and he’s definitely not drunk enough.

“That song’s so old,” Derek murmurs as he comes back and Stiles almost chokes on the sip he just took.

“I didn’t know you even hear music,” Stiles teases him and is rewarded with an elbow in the ribs. And of course he spills half of his punch over himself making it look like he pissed himself.

Suddenly, everyone laughs and it looks like Scott might actually piss himself. Stiles scowls at Derek.

“Bastard,” he curses and wipes his hand on his shirt, setting down his glass on the table where Derek set down his glass a few moments ago.

“Oh sweety,” Erica says syrupy, suddenly next to him, laying her hand onto his arm. “If only someone could blow that dry.”

It makes Stiles wanna strangle Erica because honestly, can everyone just stop teasing him for his crush on Derek, let alone hint it to him? It’s awkward enough already, he doesn’t need Derek to know and make it even more uncomfortable than it already is.

But then Derek makes a choked noise and Stiles totally catches him staring at his crotch. He’s definitely too sober for all of this.

He heads inside, for the bathroom, to find a blow dryer and dry his jeans. It’s not exactly super cold outside, but he wants to rescue his balls from the possibility of freezing off.

When he comes outside again, everybody’s dancing, well, except for Derek who stands awkwardly aside.

“God, you’re such a party pooper,” Stiles says and picks up his half full glass of punch, taking a great sip because it’s about time he gets drunk. “Don’t you ever have fun? I’ve never seen you having fun. I bet you look good having fun.” Derek raises an eyebrow at Stiles and oh God this just sounded like he wants to dance with Derek, didn’t it? Or worse, make him have fun, like, with Derek’s dick in his mouth. Not that he doesn’t want to do that, but it’s just… Derek. Stiles groans and facepalms. “Let’s pretend I did not just say that.” But Derek just shrugs and looks over to where Cora and Isaac are dancing together.

“Stiiileees!” Lydia calls and waves him over to them and Stiles resists the urge to shake his head so he can keep standing next to Derek where their arms brush slightly and he can say awkward, joking, not so joking, things. So he just nods at Derek, empties his glass in one sip and makes his way over to his friends. The music that is playing is actually really good (God, “Heads will roll” is still so good), not just the mainstream bullshit that you hear everywhere you go. It feels really good to dance and let off some steam, and when Stiles dances, he _dances._ Lydia giggles at his dancing style, she does every time. But she plants a kiss on his cheek when she lays her arms around his neck some ten minutes later, so it’s all good.

“I’m glad you’re my friend, Stiles,” she says over the blasting music.

“Me too,” he says back and gives her a thumbs up.

“Just make your move,” Lydia says, out of context, and Stiles’ looks at her confused. She jerks her head over to Derek and honestly, has everybody conspired against him tonight?

“No way,” he mouths at her. He needs a new drink. He definitely does. So he wiggles his way over and away from the dance floor to where the bowl of punch stands and fills up his glass again.

“You’re pretty thirsty,” Derek states and Stiles looks up at him from where he’s hanging over the bowl.

“Nah, just too sober for all of this,” he says as he turns around and gestures at Scott who looks like he wants to eat Allison’s face, urgh, and then at Erica who caresses Boyd’s ass, urgh. Luckily, Lydia interfered between Isaac and Cora because she’s bossy and she most likely thinks she talked too little to Cora all evening so she does now. Stiles takes a great gulp.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Derek agrees but doesn’t fill up his glass. Then Stiles sees Lydia turn Isaac’s wrist around to take a look at his watch and she gasps and hurtles over into the pool house before she emerges with two big bags full of fireworks.

“Come one guys, it’s just five minutes left!” she calls and shakes the bags, making her way to the driveway. Allison goes to grab some empty bottles from the pool house; obviously, she and Lydia prepared everything. Stiles trails after the others, Derek a few steps behind him, and Stiles, whose head begins to buzz slightly, has to shove his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans to keep himself from reaching out and entwining his fingers with Derek’s.

‘Derek does not have a crush on me,’ Stiles whispers to himself repeatedly as he makes his way down the driveway and finally positions himself next to Scott. They watch Lydia and Allison sticking the sticks of the fireworks into the existing bottles, but Stiles can’t stop himself from looking where Derek has gone. He stands next to Cora. Of course.

“Any New Year’s resolutions?” Scott asks and raises his eyebrows.

“Don’t make that face Scott, I know exactly what that face means,” Stiles whines and rubs his hand over his face.

“What? My face means nothing,” Scott says and shrugs his shoulders innocently, but a second later he smirks. Allison then strides over to him and lays her arm around Scott’s waist.

“Stop teasing Stiles, Scott. It’s hard enough for him.”

“God, thank you!” Stiles says relieved and sips from his punch. Allison smiles at him sympathetically.

“So, do _you_ have any New Year’s resolutions, Scott?” Allison asks her boyfriend then and Scott shoots Stiles a fearful look.

Scott told him on Christmas Eve that he wants to marry Allison and that he’s been searching for the perfect moment to propose to her and that his New Year’s resolution will be to do that. But not only that.

“I’m gonna work hard on my thesis,” Scott replies, and Stiles gives him a thumbs up when Allison doesn’t look. “You? Anything?”

“Probably to travel more. With you.”

Stiles sees how a bright smile stretches across Scott’s face and alright the sun may just has risen and thousands of adorable little puppies may run around their feet because this is just so cute. Stiles wonders when the day will come that they will marry. Most likely soon enough.

Along the street, the families emerge from their houses and set up their fireworks and just a minute later, the family from across the street starts a countdown.

And of course all of them tune in.

They count down together, from ten to zero, and Lydia lights the first firework as they all shout “HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

Scott kisses Allison and Erica pulls Boyd close by the collar of his shirt and Stiles wonders how Boyd can put up with such a bossy girl like her, but then again he crushed on Lydia for seven years and if there’s one bossy girl, it’s Lydia.

Stiles is then pulled into a hug by Scott, followed by Erica and Lydia and then Allison and Boyd and he wishes all of them a happy new year. It’s an absolute, amazing mess and Lydia almost forgets to light the next fireworks.

Stiles looks around and sees how Cora hugs Derek and then Isaac, and yeeees she did just grab his ass. Stiles catches Derek’s gaze and man he so does not look happy. Stiles walks over.

“Happy Halloween, Grumpywolf!” he cheers and almost pulls Derek into a hug, but stops midway and instead raises his hand for a high five. Which Derek ignores. Stiles lets his hand sink awkwardly.

“It’s New Year, not Halloween,” Derek states and eyes the sky which is still illuminated by the fireworks.

“Yeah, but you look like a kid on Halloween whose candy was stolen.”

“I don’t,” Derek tries not to snap, but obviously he then just realizes that he’s got his arms crossed, so he untangles them.

“Hey, have fun, it’s entertaining!” Stiles tries and bumps his shoulder against Derek’s. “We’re gonna have a drink together later on, alright?”

“Alright,” Derek agrees and watches as the last of their fireworks rise into the sky and explode into a gigantic red ball of sparkles. Then Lydia sets up a 100 shot Saturn firework battery. The sparks that illuminate the sky and the booming blasts are mesmerizing and they all watch it fascinatedly. There are four or five other batteries that Lydia lights one after another, but then, the last battery burned down too and it’s not like they are all super rich so they could buy a bunch of stuff for this and they head back to the backyard.

The music is still running and Stiles leans against the table where he stood before with Derek, taking another sip from his glass. Lydia passes him and heads for her laptop. She puts a new song on and Stiles can’t do otherwise than turn to her with wide eyes.

“Oh my god, Lydia, this isn’t Peacock, is it?”

“Oh of course it is, baby,” she says with a mischievous smile and purses her lips.

“God. Can all of you just stop already?” This isn’t fun. This totally is not.

“Nope.”

This is not okay. Stiles turns around to search for encouragement from Scott but he just bites his lip and tells Stiles in a not so subtle way to fuck Derek. Stiles flips him the bird. Even Allison isn’t any help, she just giggles and jerks her head over to Derek.

This is totally a conspiracy.

Stiles tries not to look over to Derek before the song ends, but does eventually anyway, and he sees Derek surveying him out of the corner of his eyes.

None of this is okay. Stiles drowns his glass in one sip. And goes to get a new one.

“¡Hola there!” Erica says and takes the glass from his hand. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?”

“No. I don’t,” Stiles states and tries to get the glass back but she already handed it over to Boyd who holds it above his head so Stiles can’t reach it.

“I want you to remember your first time with Derek, darling,” she says gently and tilts her head. Stiles gapes at her.

“Really?” They are all assholes.

“Yes,” Erica says with emphasis and then links arm with Boyd and heads over to Isaac and Cora.

Fuck this.

And then Stiles remembers he brought whiskey. Which still stands on the kitchen counter. He heads inside and fetches a new glass and pours a more than decent amount of the amber liquid into it, filling it up with coke then.

Man, this New Year’s Eve started so good and now Stiles drowns himself in alcohol to escape the attempts of his friends to hook him up with Derek.

Not that he doesn’t want that, just not… like that.

Luckily, there’s better, no sex implying music on as Stiles heads outside again buuuut everyone’s making out. Well. Scott and Allison, and Erica and Boyd, and Isaac and Cora which leaves Lydia and Derek and they do _not_ look pleased. So Stiles intervenes.

“Eeeey, buddies,” he exclaims and lays and arm around each of their necks, spilling half of his drink on the floor. He doesn’t care. This is New Year’s Eve and he’s allowed to do that. Just that Lydia peels his arm from around her shoulders.

“Imma… just get lost,” she says with a meaningful look and heads inside. Which leaves Stiles with his arm around Derek’s shoulders.

Derek doesn’t move.

“So, you’re having a good time?” Stiles asks and man, is he drunk. He almost doesn’t catch Derek’s hesitation.

“Yeah,” he says finally and yes that was a smile that tugged on the corners of Derek’s mouth.

And yes that’s his scumbag body telling him he needs to piss, right now. Damn it.

So Stiles cautiously removes his arm from Derek.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” he slurs and goes to find the bathroom.

Buttons and zips are not such a fun thing when you’re drunk. But a minute later he leaves the bathroom again without getting his dick stuck in the zipper of his jeans.

He lingers in the living room, looking out to his friends, most of them dancing again, when he lets his gaze wander and his eyes find Derek’s. His cheeks are flushed.

Fuck, _he_ wants to make Derek’s cheeks flushed.

New year, new luck, right?

“Fuck it,” Stiles says, louder than necessary, and passes his friends, his eyes locked with Derek’s from where he’s leaning against one of the columns, watching him.

“Fuck it,” Stiles repeats and takes the last, private space invading step. He pulls Derek close by his neck and just kisses him.

“Oh. My. Goodness,” Erica gasps behind them, and several others gasp for breath, too. Stiles feels Derek stiffen under his touch and pulls back, searching for an answer in Derek’s eyes. The few seconds that it takes Derek to come to his senses feel like hours of agonizing pain to Stiles.

“Fuck, fuck fuck!” he curses and tries to turn around, but Derek reaches out for the hem of his shirt and pulls him close again, his hand on the small of Stiles’ back, tasting his lips. Stiles sags against Derek, sighing into his mouth.

“GOD! Finally!” Scott says loudly and Stiles feels the corners of Derek’s mouth curl up at this.

A tiny part of him wants to turn around and high five Scott, but a much bigger part wants to make Derek pant. So, Stiles grinds his hips up into Derek and a stifled moan escapes the older man.

“God, Stiles,” Derek murmurs as he throws Stiles’ beanie away to fist his hair and oh my god, they totally need to get out of here.

Stiles grabs Derek’s wrist and takes a step back, looking him deep in the eyes. He starts to pull Derek inside, or at least tries to, when Lydia suddenly appears in front of him.

“First floor, first on the left. Please don’t make too much of a mess.”

“Promise. There won’t be too much fucking anyway since we don’t have any lube; unless you lend us yours.” Stiles can’t help but smirk.

“Ewww, get _lost_ ,” Lydia snaps and steps out of their way.

“Thanks,” Stiles calls as he pulls Derek inside. He hears Scott catcalling after them and oh my god, he should have listened to all of them. But as soon as they are around the corner into the entrée, Derek turns him around and pins him against the wall, nibbling at his jawline.

“Oh, patience grasshopper,” Stiles mumbles and Derek pulls back, one of his ridiculous eyebrows pulled up.

“Quoting ‘Kung Fu’ to me?” he inquires, his eyebrow still raised.

“Yeah and now get back here,” Stiles says and pulls Derek back, pulling them flush together.

Yup, they should get upstairs. Now.

But Derek’s tongue made his way into his mouth and alright, maybe they can stay here for a bit.

“Urgh,” someone calls and Stiles can hear stumbling. He jerks his head around, watching the hallway from where Cora re-emerges with her hand held before her eyes. “I thought you guys were upstairs,” she says and feels her way towards the bathroom with her free hand.

“We were, uh, held up along the way,” Derek says and pulls his hands from where they slipped underneath Stiles’ shirt.

“Yeah, I saw that,” she says as she opens the bathroom door and slams it shut behind her as she got inside.

“Come on, let’s get lost,” Stiles says and slaps Derek’s ass playfully and heads upstairs, looking back over his shoulder to see if Derek’s coming after him. Aaand he’s gazing at his butt. “Y’like that?” Stiles teases and swings his hips intentionally.

Derek seems lost for words, making Stiles chuckle. They reach the first story and Stiles takes Derek’s hand, pulling him into the guest bedroom of the Martin house.

And again he’s trapped, between Derek and the door this time.

“Ey, Throwback Thursday!” Stiles chimes as he gazes into Derek’s eyes, seeing how he gulps out of the corner of his eye. Derek’s hand fist the front of Stiles’ shirt. “But yes I know tha-MPHF!” He’s cut off by Derek and he feels how Derek’s hands wander downwards.

“Off, off, off,” Derek repeats over and over as he leans back a few inches, his breath still hot and moist on Stiles skin, pulling the hem of his shirt up to his armpits and Stiles more than willingly raises his arms above his head, smirking. His shirt lands on the floor.

“Your turn,” Stiles grins and plays with the end of Derek’s tee, his fingers moving over to Derek’s happy trail to where it disappears into his briefs. Stiles grabs the hem and takes the shirt off, finally. And he feels like Emma Stone in Crazy, Stupid, Love. Gaping at Derek.

“Stiles?” Derek says, voice breaking a bit, taking a step forward, touching their hips. Stiles looks up from Derek’s torso into his eyes. “Stop torturing me.”

Derek darts forwards and licks into Stiles’ mouth, gently shoving one of his legs between Stiles’ and yes this totally take a direction Stiles likes. He lets his fingers glide over Derek’s back and man, he feels like he’s made of steel. Then, Derek’s mouth wanders over his jaw down to his neck.

“Fuck, I wanna do _things_ to you,” Derek mutters as he bites down on the vulnerable skin of Stiles’ neck.

“We can – hng – arrange that,” Stiles stutters as Derek licks a wet stripe over the roused skin.

Derek doesn’t even bother to answer as he makes his way down, circling one of Stiles’ nipples with his tongue.  

“Fuck, I should have listened to Scott, and Erica and Lydia, but they were such a pain in the…”

“Stiles?” Derek interjects from where he’s now kneeling before him, the zipper of Stiles’ jeans still between his fingers.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.” He pulls down Stiles’ jeans and grabs his dick through the fabric of his boxer shorts.

“A’ight.” Stiles voice cracks as his head drops back against the door, his eyes fluttering close.

 

* * *

 

The next day is a mess. Scott wakes up to Allison in the bed of Lydia’s mom, Lydia shared her Queen Size bed with Cora and Erica, and Isaac and Boyd somehow got comfortable downstairs. He catches a bed headed Derek placing a kiss to Stiles’ temple as they emerge from the guest bedroom, and Stiles gives Scott a thumbs up as Derek vanishes into the bathroom.

“God, dude, I should totally have listened to you all along,” Stiles confesses as he buttons his jeans.

“Is that an apology?”

“Yes, and I was a dumbass for not listening to you.” Scott begins to grin.

“So, how was your night?” Scott asks, wiggling his eyebrows, a shit eating grin on his face, as they make their way downstairs.

“Phenomenal,” Stiles smirks and nudges Boyd and Isaac softly with his foot after they entered the living room. “Time to get up, boys.”

The two of them blink up at Stiles and Scott sleepily, but get up some minutes later.

When Erica enters the living room some ten minutes later, Scott sees Stiles hugging her real tight and hears something like “Thanks for letting me remember everything.”

The clean up everything together, Isaac and Erica groaning occasionally, telling everyone to be quiet, and Scott wonders when they drank so much – he can’t remember, he was too caught up in Allison’s being.

Around six, the house looks acceptable again, and Lydia invites all of them to have dinner here and because all of their heads hurt slightly, they agree. So, Lydia and Allison prepare Mac&Cheese while the others lounge around on the sofas, watching TV.

It takes them another two hours before everyone feels ready to finally get up properly and head home.

*

The next week is a bliss. Scott spends most of his time with Allison, bringing out darker and darker shadows under Chris’ eyes but he couldn’t care less.

He heads over to Isaac and Camden occasionally, trying to make up for the time he spent away at university, and he also brings Stiles along sometimes – if he catches him alone without his mouth attached to Derek’s skin or worse, cock. Or vice versa.

But time flies by, unfortunately, and Scott finds himself at the train station, ready-not-so-ready to head back to Fresno with Stiles.

“I’m gonna miss you terribly,” he whispers, cupping Allison’s cheeks.

“It’s only a few months. And we’ve got Skype. And we’re gonna graduate and then everything will be fine and we’ll be back in Beacon Hills. You’ll see.” She smiles and a firework starts in his insides.

“I love you.”

The sounds of the arriving train makes him look around. He catches a glimpse of Stiles smooching Derek and he looks back into Allison’s eyes.

“I love you too, Scott,” she whispers and leans forward, their lips meeting for a soft kiss. “We’ll talk later, okay?”

“Okay.”

The train comes to a halt and Scott hurries to get on board.

*

Knock, knock, knock.

“Coming!” Zach calls and jumps out of his bed. Scott watches him sleepily, pulling the blanket back over his head.

Only to have it dragged down moments later again by a grinning Stiles.

“Time to get up, Scotty!” he cheers and drops Scott’s blanket on the floor.

“What time is it??” Scott asks groggily and turns over to take a look at his alarm clock. It’s 7.30, sharp. “The hell?” Scott looks over at Stiles again who has his hands on his hips.

“We’re supposed to be at the Center in half an hour. And I don’t wanna sitting next to a complaining Scotty like back in high school because you had no breakfast before graduation. So, get up, Imma make you a bowl of Cheerios or whatever you’ve got so we can head to the Mart in 15 minutes. Up, up, up!” Stiles attempts to drag Scott out of his bed by his ankles before giving up and retreating into the living room.

Scott groans. Getting up early is totally not cool. He sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes. He gets up and fetches a fresh shirt and a clean pair of jeans and puts them on before joining Stiles in the living room. A bowl full of Cheerios awaits him on the couch table and Scott takes it gratefully, digging in after he sat down on the couch.

“You’re the best, man,” Scott mumbles with his mouth full. Stiles grins next to him, patting Scott’s shoulder.

“I know.”

Five minutes later, Scott brushes his teeth and fetches his regalia and the two boys make their way to the Save Mart Center where the commencement is held. The weather is quite okay, even though the sky is hung with clouds, but the temperature is neither too hot nor too cold.

The ceremony stretches and stretches. Standing in line, waiting, photos, waiting, standing in line, moving, sitting, sitting, sitting, getting up and the conferring of the degrees before you sit once more until you can finally, finally make their way outside.

“WE DID IT!” Stiles cheers once they are outside and hugs Scott tightly, lifting him off the ground.

“Now we are finally full adults and have to cope with all the problems of adult life. Yeah!”

It earns him a slap on the back of his head by Stiles.

“Dude, shut it. First of all, we gonna get a nice, fatty lunch with curly fries and burgers and coke, take a nap and then we gonna party the hell outta this day!”

“Hey yeah!” Scott agrees because well, this sounds a lot better.

They head for the next fast food restaurant and stuff themselves because what, they just graduated, they deserve it!

It’s around two when they get back on the campus, bidding goodbye. Scott drops into his bed as soon as he gets into his suite because there’s no way he’s going to get into bed tonight before four.

*

The parking lot in front of the frat house is packed when Scott arrives at eight, a six pack of beer under one of his arms. The door is left ajar so he just steps in and immediately is amidst the party. The place is already crowded.

Scott makes his way to the kitchen counter, putting down his six pack and tearing a bottle from the cardboard box. The music booms around him and he can spot at least five “couples” making out on the first glance. He opens the bottle with one of his keys and makes his way to find Stiles.

Halfway through the living room Scott catches a glimpse of Zach.

“Hey buddy,” Zach greets him, raising his cup. Scott strides over to give him a quick hug. “So, graduates now, eh?” Zach asks, clinking their drinks together.

“Feels good,” Scott smiles and takes a sip from his beer. “So, any plan where you’re going from here?”

“Back to Atlanta for now. See if I can get a job around there. Miss my family.” Zach tries a grin. “How about you?”

“Same. I’m looking forward to seeing my girlfriend again, though.” The thought of Allison makes his stomach turn in the best way.

“The infamous Allison Argent.” Zach winks at Scott and sips from his cup. “You’re one lucky guy.”

“I know.” The corners of Scott’s mouth curl up. “But, uhm, you’re here with someone?”

“Well, I came here with a few of my fellows but not sure where they went.” Zach looks around the room before he snaps his eyes back to Scott. “You?”

“I planned to meet with Stiles but… no idea where he could be.”

“Wanna go looking for him?” Zach offers.

“Sure.”

*

Zach and Scott make their way through the house without even finding a trace of Stiles.

“Where the hell is that guy?” Scott asks over the music as they stroll around in the backyard.

“He’s your best friend, you should know that best,” Zach chuckles and empties his cup. “Wanna get inside, get another drink?” He points at Scott’s also empty bottle with his cup.

“Please,” Scott agrees and they make their way into the house.

“God, what the hell is this song?” Scott asks Zach as they enter the living room again. Then a moving figure in the middle of the room catches his eye. Stiles. His arms and legs flailing around. Scott jerks his head over at his friend to let Zach know he’ll be gone.

Scott makes his way through the mass of bodies and finally grabs Stiles’ by his shoulders.

“Eyyy, Scotty!” Stiles turns around and hugs him quickly, still kinda dancing. “…and dad, pucker up, kiss my butt ‘cuz I'm bloody fucking nuts!” Stiles sings on top of his lungs as soon as their embrace breaks apart.

“Dude, God’s sake, what is this song?” Scott asks confused.

“Tik Tok Parody,” Stiles says breathlessly, his arms still flailing around.

“Is this… British?” Scott asks again, wondering.

“Yeah,” Stiles grins, then whistles along. Scott rolls his eyes amused.

“Besides, I bet Derek’d love to kiss your butt.”

Stiles laughs loudly.

“You can _totally_ bet on that!” Stiles grins as the song ends and someone Scott doesn’t know shoves an almost empty drink at Stiles, who takes it gratefully, instantly taking a sip. “So, how long have you been here? And oh come on, let’s get you a new drink.”

They make their way to the kitchen as Scott pulls his mobile out of his pocket to look at the time. He’s been here for about a half hour. Then he pockets his mobile and look up to find Stiles gaping into the fridge.

“Havanna, Bacardi, Vodka, anything you like.” Stiles looks over at his best friend over his shoulder.

“Havanna it is.” Scott leans against the kitchen counter, watching Stiles making his drink.

“Coke, Sprite, OJ, cane sugar, lime, anything?” Stiles asks as he flails around the kitchen, making his way around the people crowding the space.

“Coke and lime.”

A minute later Stiles hands a glass over to Scott, taking another glass with the same drink himself. They clink their glasses and take some sips each.

“So, wanna get outside or something? This place is too fucking crowded,” Stiles asks as they wander around into the living room which is even more packed than ten minutes before, if that’s even possible.

“God, yes.”

*

“Ohmygod, Sti’s, we’re finally going back to Beacon Hills!” Scott cheers, slurring slightly. It’s a quarter to midnight and he had a few more drinks than necessary. He’s not wasted, but he’s definitely tipsy.

“Yeah, I know dude,” Stiles grins and pats Scott’s shoulder. “Made up your mind on how to propose to Allison already?”

Scott face turns blank as he blinks at Stiles.

“Oh fuck, no! Finals ate me up, dude. Fuck!” Scott fist his hair, a miserable feeling creeping up side him. “I wanted to make it big, make it beautiful, surprise her,” he explains, trailing off at the end.

“Yeah, I know,” Stiles says, still grinning, taking a sip from his glass. “Expected nothing less from you.”

Suddenly, an idea starts forming inside Scott’s mind. And the idea sounds better the longer he thinks about it.

“Imma call her.”

“What?” Stiles snaps, his eyebrows furled in confusion. The music still booms around them, bodies pressing into them, even though they are outside again.

“Imma call her, propose, ask her to marry me, all that stuff, you know?” A grin stars to spread across his face.

“Like, now? Like, right now?” Stiles looks legitimately concerned now.

“Yeah,” Scott grins, already pulling his mobile out, calling Allison via short-cut.

“You really think this is…” But Stiles is cut off my Allison picking up.

“Hey Handsome,” she greets Scott and he can totally hear that smile out of her voice.

“Hey Cutie Pie.” He hesitates, not sure what to say. “How, uhm, was your day?” He immediately facepalms because this is just the most ridiculous question to ask in human history. Stiles just rolls his eyes.

“Well… I got my diploma,” she teases. “How was _your_ day?”

Scott can’t do but chuckle.

“Got my diploma too.” Scott feels sweat beading on his forehead, excitement bubbling up inside of him. “Stiles graduated as best of his major.”

“Hey Scott!” Scott hears Lydia call faintly in the background of the call and he greets her back.

“Lydia did in hers, too,” Allison cuts in and Scott hears her gasping then, only able to think of Lydia punching her.

“Tell her my congrats.” He needs to get his move one. He lets the air fizzle through his lips, clenching his hand and releasing it again. “Uhm… I wanna tell you something… well, ask you something. Allison Argent… will you do me the honor of being my wife?”

It’s out. All out and he can’t take it back. He hears Stiles inhale a sharp breath and looks over at his best friend. He himself holds his breath.

“Yes!” Allison almost shrieks and all pressure fall off of Scott.

“Yes?” Suddenly, his vision blurs from tears. He doesn’t care. Allison just said yes.

“Yes. God, yes!”

“How romantic,” Stiles whispers in the background, mockingly, and Scott reaches out to punch him but misses, Stiles dancing out of reach, sticking his tongue out at Scott.

“I love you, Scott,” Allison snaps his thoughts back to her and he starts to smile.

“Love you too,” Scott breathes as he wraps his head around everything that just happened. “See you on Friday?”

“Friday it is. See you then. Have a nice party!”

“You too.”

Allison hangs up with the sound of a blown kiss and Scott shoves his mobile absent-mindedly back into his jeans.

“Eeeeey, you’re engaged now!” Stiles cheers and pulls Scott into a tight hug. “How’s it feel?” he asks as their embrace breaks apart, holding Scott at arm’s length.

“Fantastic.” What feels like a creepy smile makes his way onto his face and he feels a tear roll down his cheek.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be happy, man!” Stiles tries to cheer him up even though he doesn’t need any.

“I’m the happiest person in the world,” Scott smiles widely, pulling his best friend into a bone crushing hug. As Stiles pulls back after some moments, Scott’s eyes find Zach and he runs over to his roommate.

“I’m engaged!” he exclaims and hugs Zach without warning.

“Wow, uhm, awesome!” Zach manages to say and pats Scott’s back. “You gonna invite me to the wedding?” he jokes and Scott steps back.

“Sure thing, bro,” he grins and looks around to find Stiles right beside them. “This is the best thing to ever happen.”

“Oi, forgetting about our friendship?” Stiles feigns pouting before bursting out laughing.

“Bro, _our_ friendship is out of this world, nothing’s gonna top that, _ever_!”

“Just wanted to make sure,” Stiles says and winks.

“But seriously, this is the best thing ever. Imma grow old with Allison. And we’re gonna have cute little babies with dimples and puppy eyes!”

“A…lright?” Zach mumbles, shooting amused glances between Scott and Stiles and Scott just grins at his roommate.

“Imma name the girl Mary-Ann. And, and… the boy, Imma name the boy Stiles!” Alright, maybe he had too many drinks after all. But this is just awesome.

“Dude, you’re totally wasted,” Stiles laughs and holds his sides. “Besides, you sure you wanna torture you child like that? Naming it _Stiles_?” Scott can’t stop himself now from laughing, too.

“It’s not a torture if his dad has a cool buddy like you!” He hugs Stiles again. “This is the best day of my life.”

*

They wake up in Stiles’ room, Stiles half rolled off the bed, drooling onto his pillows, Scott down on the floor. His back aches horribly as he tries to sit up, leaning back onto his elbows. He looks around to find Stiles’ alarm clock; it’s around two. And everything from yesterday’s party comes flooding back to him.

Stiles dancing to The Midnight Beast’s Tik Tok Parody, them getting drunk and him calling Allison, proposing.

He’s engaged.

It hits him like a ton of bricks, but, in the best ways.

He gets up and heads over to the pile of clothes he supposes are his and Stiles, searching for his jeans. He eventually finds it at fishes his phone from the depths of the pocket.

He hesitates a moment before calling Allison.

Two rings, three rings, four.

Then Allison picks up.

“Allison soon to be McCall,” she says, with the slightest indication of a question mark at the end. Scott is startled. She didn’t take it for a joke.

“I’ll propose to you again. Properly.” The brightest smile stretches across his face as he hangs up.

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by my wonderful Verity, the closest person to a soul-mate-friend I found yet. Thank you!
> 
> Constructive criticism, tips and nice words are welcome.
> 
> This fic is written in memory of Allison Argent, who I refuse to believe is dead, and this is how it should be.
> 
> The second part will be about the rest of their lives. I hope you are as excited as I am. ;)


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